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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00022226100 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/misssantaclausofjohn 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00022226100 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 
OF  THE  PULLMAN 


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Miss  Santa  Claus 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 
OF  THE  PULLMAN 


BY 

ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSON 

Author  of  "  The  Little  Colonel  Series,"  etc. 


With  illustrations  by 
REGINALD  B.  BIRCH 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1913 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
The  Century  Co. 


Published,  October,  1913 


TO 

MY  SISTERS 

LURA  AND  ALBION 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Miss    Santa    Claus Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"Oh,  dear  Santa  Claus" 19 

"Here!"    he    said 29 

"Oh,  rabbit  dravy!"  he  cried 57 

He    pushed    aside    the    red    plush   curtain    and 
looked  in 69 

And  ran  after  the  boy  as  hard  as  she  could  go     .      77 

It  was   about  the  Princess  Ina 99 

The  shower  of  stars  falling  on  the  blanket  made 
her  think    of  the   star-flower 121 

"Take    it    back!" 165 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS  OF 
THE  PULLMAN 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS  OF 
THE  PULLMAN 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  last  half  hour  had  seemed  endless 
to  Will'm,  almost  as  long  as  the 
whole  four  years  of  his  life.  With  his 
stubby  little  shoes  drawn  up  under  him,  and 
his  soft  bobbed  hair  flapping  over  his  ears 
every  time  the  rockers  tilted  forward,  he 
sat  all  alone  in  the  sitting-room  behind  the 
shop,  waiting  and  rocking. 

It  seemed  as  if  everybody  at  the  Junc- 
tion wanted  something  that  afternoon; 
thread  or  buttons  or  yarn,  or  the  home-made 
doughnuts  which  helped  out  the  slim  stock 
of  goods  in  the  little  notion  store  which  had 
once  been  the  parlor.     And  it  seemed  as  if 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Grandma  Neal  never  would  finish  waiting 
on  the  customers  and  come  back  to  tell  the 
rest  of  the  story  about  the  Camels  and  the 
Star;  for  no  sooner  did  one  person  go  out 
than  another  one  came  in.  He  knew  by 
the  tinkling  of  the  bell  over  the  front  door, 
every  time  it  opened  or  shut. 

The  door  between  the  shop  and  sitting- 
room  being  closed,  Will'm  could  not  hear 
much  that  was  said,  but  several  times  he 
caught  the  word  "Christmas,"  and  once 
somebody  said  "Santa  Clans''  in  such  a 
loud  happy-sounding  voice  that  he  slipped 
down  from  the  chair  and  ran  across  the  room 
to  open  the  door  a  crack.  It  was  only  lately 
that  he  had  begun  to  hear  much  about  Santa 
Claus.  Not  until  Libby  started  to  school 
that  fall  did  they  know  that  there  is  such  a 
wonderful  person  in  the  world.  Of  course 
they  had  heard  his  name,  as  they  had  heard 
Jack  Frost's,  and  had  seen  his  picture  in 
story-books  and  advertisements,  but  they 
had  n't  known  that  he  is  really  true  till  the 
other    children    told    Libby.     Now   nearly 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

every  day  she  came  home  with  something 
new  she  had  learned  about  him. 

Will'm  must  have  known  always  about 
Christmas  though,  for  he  still  had  a  piece  of 
a  rubber  dog  which  his  father  had  sent  him 
on  his  first  one,  and — a  Teddy  Bear  on  his 
second.  And  while  he  could  n't  recall  any- 
thing about  those  first  two  festivals  except 
what  Libby  told  him,  he  could  remember  the 
last  one  perfectly.  There  had  been  a  sled, 
and  a  fire-engine  that  wound  up  with  a  key, 
and  Grandma  Neal  had  made  him  some 
cooky  soldiers  with  red  cinnamon-drop  but- 
tons on  their  coats. 

She  was  n't  his  own  grandmother,  but  she 
had  taken  the  place  of  one  to  Libby  and  him, 
all  the  years  he  had  been  in  the  world. 
Their  father  paid  their  board,  to  be  sure, 
and  sent  them  presents  and  came  to  see  them 
at  long  intervals  when  he  could  get  away 
from  his  work,  but  that  was  so  seldom  that 
Will'm  did  not  feel  very  well  acquainted 
with  him;  not  so  well  as  Libby  did.  She 
was  three  years  older,  and  could  even  re- 

5 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

member  a  little  bit  about  their  mother  before 
she  went  off  to  heaven  to  get  well.  Mrs. 
Neal  was  n't  like  a  real  grandmother  in 
many  ways.  She  was  almost  too  young, 
for  one  thing.  She  was  always  very  brisk 
and  very  busy,  and,  as  she  frequently  re- 
marked, she  meant  what  she  said  and  she 
would  be  minded. 

That  is  why  Will'm  turned  the  knob  so 
softly  that  no  one  noticed  for  a  moment  that 
the  door  was  ajar.  A  black-bearded  man 
in  a  rough  overcoat  was  examining  a  row 
of  dolls  which  dangled  by  their  necks  from  a 
line  above  the  show  case.  He  was  saying 
jokingly: 

"Well,  Mrs.  Neal,  I  '11  have  to  be  buying 
some  of  these  jimcracks  before  long.  If 
this  mud  keeps  up,  no  reindeer  living  could 
get  out  to  my  place,  and  it  would  n't  do  for 
the  young'uns  to  be  disappointed  Christmas 
morning." 

Then  he  caught  sight  of  a  section  of  a 
small  boy  peeping  through  the  door,  for  all 
that  showed  of  Will'm  through  the  crack 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

was  a  narrow  strip  of  blue  overalls  which 
covered  him  from  neck  to  ankles,  a  round 
pink  cheek  and  one  solemn  eye  peering  out 
from  under  his  thatch  of  straight  flaxen  hair 
like  a  little  Skye  terrier's.  When  the  man 
saw  that  eye  he  hurried  to  say:  "Of  course 
mud  ought  n't  to  make  any  difference  to 
Santy's  reindeer.  They  take  the  Sky  Road, 
right  over  the  house  tops  and  all." 

The  crack  widened  till  two  eyes  peeped 
in,  shining  with  interest,  and  both  stubby 
shoes  ventured  over  the  threshold.  A  fa- 
miliar sniffle  made  Grandma  Neal  turn 
around. 

"Go  back  to  the  fire,  William,"  she  said 
briskly.  "It  is  n't  warm  enough  in  here  for 
you  with  that  cold  of  yours." 

The  order  was  obeyed  as  promptly  as  it 
was  given,  but  with  a  bang  of  the  door  so 
rebellious  and  unexpected  that  the  man 
laughed.  There  was  an  amused  expression 
on  the  woman's  face,  too,  as  she  glanced  up 
from  the  package  she  was  tying,  to  explain 
with  an  indulgent  smile. 

7 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"That  was  n't  all  temper,  Mr.  Woods. 
It  was  part  embarrassment  that  made  him 
slam  the  door.  Usually  he  does  n't  mind 
strangers,  but  he  takes  spells  like  that  some- 
times." 

"That 's  only  natural,"  was  the  drawling 
answer.  "But  it  is  n't  everybody  who 
knows  how  to  manage  children,  Mrs.  Neal. 
I  hope  now  that  his  stepmother  when  he 
gets  her,  will  understand  him  as  well  as  you 
do.  My  wife  tells  me  that  the  poor  little 
kids  are  going  to  have  one  soon.  How  do 
they  take  to  the  notion?" 

Mrs.  Neal  stiffened  a  little  at  the  ques- 
tion, although  he  was  an  old  friend,  and  his 
interest  was  natural  under  the  circum- 
stances. There  was  a  slight  pause,  then  she 
said: 

"I  haven't  mentioned  the  subject  to 
them  yet.  No  use  to  make  them  cross  their 
bridge  before  they  get  to  it.  I  Ve  no  doubt 
Molly  will  be  good  to  them.  She  was  a  nice 
little  thing  when  she  used  to  go  to  school 
here  at  the  Junction." 

8 


^ 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

"It 's  queer,"  mused  the  man,  "how  she 
and  Bill  Branfield  used  to  think  so  much 
of  each  other,  from  their  First  Reader  days 
till  both  families  moved  away  from  here,  and 
then  that  they  should  come  across  each  other 
after  all  these  years,  from  different  states, 
too." 

Instinctively  they  had  lowered  their 
voices,  but  Will'm  on  the  other  side  of  the 
closed  door  was  making  too  much  noise  of 
his  own  to  hear  anything  they  were  saying. 
Lying  full  length  on  the  rug  in  front  of  the 
fire,  he  battered  his  heels  up  and  down  on 
the  floor  and  pouted.  His  cold  made  him 
miserable,  and  being  sent  out  of  the  shop 
made  him  cross.  If  he  had  been  allowed  to 
stay  there  's  no  telling  what  he  might  have 
heard  about  those  reindeer  to  repeat  to 
Libby  when  she  came  home  from  school. 

Suddenly  Will'm  remembered  the  last  bit 
of  information  which  she  had  brought  home 
to  him,  and,  scrambling  hastily  up  from  the 
floor,  he  climbed  into  the  rocking  chair  as 
if  something  were  after  him: 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"Santa  Claus  is  apt  to  be  looking  down 
the  chimney  any  minute  to  see  how  you  're 
behaving.  And  no  matter  if  your  lips  don't 
show  it  outside j  he  knows  when  you  We  all 
puckered  up  with  crossness  and  pouting  on 
the  insideT 

At  that  terrible  thought  Will'm  began  to 
rock  violently  back  and  forth  and  sing.  It 
was  a  choky,  sniffling  little  tune  that  he  sang. 
His  voice  sounded  thin  and  far  away  even  to 
his  own  ears,  because  his  cold  was  so  bad. 
But  the  thought  that  Santa  might  be  listen- 
ing, and  would  write  him  down  as  a  good 
little  boy,  kept  him  valiantly  at  it  for  sev- 
eral minutes.  Then  because  he  had  a  way 
of  chanting  his  thoughts  out  loud  sometimes, 
instead  of  thinking  them  to  himself,  he  went 
on,  half  chanting,  half  talking  the  story  of 
the  Camels  and  the  Star,  which  he  was  wait- 
ing for  Grandma  Neal  to  come  back  and 
finish.  He  knew  it  as  well  as  she  did,  be- 
cause she  had  told  it  to  him  so  often  in  the 
last  week. 

"An'  the  wise  men  rode  through  the  night, 
10 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

an'  they  rode  an'  they  rode,  an'  the  bells  on 
the  bridles  went  ting-a-ling!  just  like  the 
bell  on  Dranma's  shop  door.  An'  the  drate 
big  Star  shined  down  on  'em  and  went 
ahead  to  show  'em  the  way.  An'  the  drate 
big  reindeer  runned  along  the  Sky  Hoad" — 
he  was  mixing  Grandma  Neal's  story  now 
with  what  he  had  heard  through  the  crack 
in  the  door,  and  he  found  the  mixture  much 
more  thrilling  than  the  original  recital. 
"An'  they  runned  an'  they  runned  an'  the 
sleighbells  went  ting-a-ling!  just  like  the  bell 
on  Dranma's  shop  door.  An'  after  a  long 
time  they  all  corned  to  the  house  where  the 
baby  king  was  at.  Nen  the  wise  men 
jumped  off  their  camels  and  knelt  down 
and  opened  all  their  boxes  of  pretty  things 
for  Him  to  play  with.  An'  the  reindeer 
knelt  down  on  the  roof  where  the  drate  big 
shining  star  stood  still,  so  Santy  could  empty 
all  his  pack  down  the  baby  king's  chimney." 
It  was  a  queer  procession  which  wandered 
through  Will'm's  sniffling,  sing-song  ac- 
count.    To  the   camels,   sages   and  herald 

11 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

angels,  to  the  shepherds  and  the  little  woolly 
white  lambs  of  the  Judean  hills,  were  added 
not  only  Bo  Peep  and  her  flock,  but  Baa  the 
black  sheep,  and  the  reindeer  team  of  an  un- 
scriptural  Saint  Nicholas.  But  it  was  all 
Holy  Writ  to  Will'm.  Presently  the  mere 
thought  of  angels  and  stars  and  silver  bells 
gave  him  such  a  big  warm  feeling  inside, 
that  he  was  brimming  over  with  good-will 
to  everybody. 

When  Libby  came  home  from  school  a 
few  minutes  later,  he  was  in  the  midst  of  his 
favorite  game,  one  which  he  played  at  inter- 
vals all  through  the  day.  The  game  was 
Railroad  Train,  suggested  naturally  enough 
by  the  constant  switching  of  cars  and  snort- 
ing of  engines  which  went  on  all  day  and 
night  at  this  busy  Junction.  It  was  one  in 
which  he  could  be  a  star  performer  in  each 
part,  as  he  personated  fireman,  engineer, 
conductor  and  passenger  in  turn.  At  the 
moment  Libby  came  in  he  was  the  engine 
itself,  backing,  puffing  and  whistling,  his 
arms  going  like  piston-rods,  and  his  pursed 

12 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

up  little  mouth  giving  a  very  fair  imitation 
of  "letting  off  steam." 

"Look  out!"  he  called  warningly. 
"You  '11  get  runned  over." 

But  instead  of  heeding  his  warning,  Libby 
planted  herself  directly  in  the  path  of  the 
oncoming  engine,  ignoring  so  completely  the 
part  he  was  playing  that  he  stopped  short  in 
surprise.  Ordinarily  she  would  have  fallen 
in  with  the  game,  but  now  she  seemed  blind 
and  deaf  to  the  fact  that  he  was  playing 
anything  at  all.  Usually,  coming  in  the 
back  way,  she  left  her  muddy  overshoes  on 
the  latticed  porch,  her  lunch  basket  on  the 
kitchen  table,  her  wraps  on  their  particular 
hook  in  the  entry.  She  was  an  orderly  little 
soul.  But  to-day  she  came  in,  her  coat  half 
off,  her  hood  trailing  down  her  back  by  its 
strings,  and  her  thin  little  tails  of  tightly 
braided  hair  fuzzy  and  untied,  from  run- 
ning bare-headed  all  the  way  home  to  tell 
the  exciting  news.     She  told  it  in  gasps. 

"You  can  write  letters  to  Santa  Claus — 
for  whatever  you  want — and  put  them  up 

13 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

the  chimney — and  he  gets  them — and  what- 
ever you  ask  for  he  '11  bring  you — if  you  're 
good!" 

Instantly  the  engine  was  a  little  boy 
again  all  a-tingle  with  this  new  delicious 
mystery  of  Christmastide.  He  climbed  up 
into  the  rocking  chair  and  listened,  the  rapt 
look  on  his  face  deepening.  In  proof  of 
what  she  told,  Libby  had  a  letter  all  written 
and  addressed,  ready  to  send.  One  of  the 
older  girls  had  helped  her  with  it  at  noon, 
and  she  had  spent  the  entire  afternoon  re- 
cess copying  it.  Because  she  was  just 
learning  to  write,  she  made  so  many  mis- 
takes that  it  had  to  be  copied  several  times. 
She  read  it  aloud  to  Will'm. 

"Dear  Santa  Claus: — Please  bring  me  a 
little  shiny  gold  ring  like  the  one  that 
Maudie  Peters  wears.  Yours  truly,  Libby 
Branfleld." 

"Nowj  you  watch,  and  you  '11  see  me  send 
it  up  the  chimney  when  I  get  my  muddy 
overshoes  off  and  my  hands  washed.  This 
might  be  one  of  the  times  when  he  'd  be 

14 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

looking  down,  and  it  'd  be  better  for  me  to 
be  all  clean  and  tidy." 

Breathlessly  Will'm  waited  till  she  came 
back  from  the  kitchen,  her  hands  and  face 
shining  from  the  scrubbing  she  had  given 
them  with  yellow  laundry  soap,  her  hair 
brushed  primly  back  on  each  side  of  its  part- 
ing and  her  hair  ribbons  freshly  tied.  Then 
she  knelt  on  the  rug,  the  fateful  missive  in 
her  hand. 

"Maudie  is  going  to  ask  for  'most  a  dozen 
presents,"  she  said.  "But  as  long  as  this 
will  be  Santy's  first  visit  to  this  house  I  'm 
not  going  to  ask  for  more  than  one  thing, 
and  you  must  n't  either.  It  would  n't  be 
polite." 

"But  we  can  ask  him  to  bring  a  ring  to 
Dranma,"  Will'm  suggested,  his  face  beam- 
ing at  the  thought.  The  answer  was  posi- 
tive and  terrible  out  of  her  wisdom  newly 
gained  at  both  church  and  school. 

"No,  we  can't!  He  only  brings  things  to 
people  who  bleeve  in  him.  It 's  the  same 
way  it  is  about  going  to  Heaven.     Only 

15 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

those  who  bleeve  will  be  saved  and  get 
in." 

"Dranma  and  Uncle  Neal  will  go  to 
Heaven,"  insisted  Will'm  loyally,  and  in  a 
tone  which  suggested  his  willingness  to  hurt 
her  if  she  contradicted  him.  Uncle  Neal 
was  "Dranma's"  husband. 

"Oh,  of  course,  they  '11  go  to  Heaven  all 
right,"  was  Libby's  impatient  answer. 
"They  've  got  faith  in  the  Bible  and  the 
minister  and  the  heathen  and  such  things. 
But  they  won't  get  anything  in  their  stock- 
ings because  they  are  n't  sure  about  there 
even  being  a  Santa  Claus!     So  there!" 

"Well,  if  Santa  Claus  won't  put  anything 
in  my  Dranma  Neal's  stocking,  he  's  a  mean 
old  thing,  and  I  don't  want  him  to  put  any- 
thing in  mine,"  began  Will'm  defiantly,  but 
was  silenced  by  the  sight  of  Libby's  horrified 
face. 

"Oh,  brother!  "Hush!"  she  cried,  darting 
a  frightened  glance  over  her  shoulder  to- 
wards the  chimney.  Then  in  a  shocked 
whisper  which  scared  Will'm  worse  than  a 

16 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

loud  yell  would  have  done,  she  said  im- 
pressively, "Oh,  I  hope  he  has  n't  heard  you! 
He  never  would  come  to  this  house  as  long 
as  he  lives !  And  I  could  n't  bear  for  us  to 
find  just  empty  stockings  Christmas  morn- 
ing." 

There  was  a  tense  silence.  And  then, 
still  on  her  knees,  her  hands  still  clasped 
over  the  letter,  she  moved  a  few  inches 
nearer  the  fireplace.  The  next  instant 
Will'm  heard  her  call  imploringly  up  the 
chimney,  "Oh,  dear  Santa  Claus,  if  you  're 
up  there  looking  down,  please  don't  mind 
what  Will'm  said.  He  's  so  little  he  does  n't 
know  any  better.  Please  forgive  him  and 
send  us  what  we  ask  for,  for  Jesus'  sake, 
Amen!" 

Fascinated,  Will'm  watched  the  letter 
flutter  up  past  the  flames,  drawn  by  the 
strong  draught  of  the  flue.  Then  suddenly 
shamed  by  the  thought  that  he  had  been  pub- 
licly prayed  for,  out  loud  and  in  the  daytime, 
he  ran  to  cast  himself  on  the  old  lounge,  face 
downward  among  the  cushions. 

17 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Libby  herself  felt  a  trifle  constrained  after 
her  unusual  performance,  and  to  cover  her 
embarrassment  seized  the  hearth  broom  and 
vigorously  swept  up  the  scraps  of  half-dried 
mud  which  she  had  tracked  in  a  little  while 
before.  Then  she  stood  and  drummed  on 
the  window  pane  a  long  time,  looking  out 
into  the  dusk  which  always  came  so  surpris- 
ingly fast  these  short  winter  days,  almost 
the  very  moment  after  the  sun  dropped  down 
behind  the  cedar  trees. 

It  was  a  relief  to  both  children  when 
Grandma  Neal  came  in  with  a  lighted  lamp. 
Her  cheerful  call  to  know  who  was  going  to 
help  her  set  the  supper  table,  gave  Will'm 
an  excuse  to  spring  up  from  the  lounge 
cushions  and  face  his  little  world  once  more 
in  a  natural  and  matter-of-course  way.  He 
felt  safer  out  in  the  bright  warm  kitchen. 
No  stern  displeased  eye  could  possibly  peer 
at  him  around  the  bend  of  that  black  shining 
stove-pipe.  There  was  comfort  in  the 
savory  steam  puffing  out  from  under  the 
lid  of  the  stew-pan  on  the  stove.     There  was 

18 


"  Oh,  dear  Santa  Claus  " 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

reassurance  in  the  clatter  of  the  knives  and 
forks  and  dishes  which  he  and  Libby  put 
noisily  in  place  on  the  table.  But  when 
Grandma  Neal  started  where  she  had 
left  off,  to  finish  the  story  of  the  Camels  and 
the  Star,  he  interrupted  quickly  to  ask  in- 
stead for  the  tale  of  Goldilocks  and  the 
Three  Bears.  The  Christmas  Spirit  had 
gone  out  of  him.  He  could  not  listen  to 
the  story  of  the  Star.  It  lighted  the  way 
not  only  of  the  camel  caravan,  but  of  the 
Sky  Road  too,  and  he  did  n't  want  to  be 
reminded  of  that  Sky  Road  now.  He  was 
fearful  that  a  cold  displeasure  might  be 
filling  the  throat  of  the  sitting-room  chim- 
ney. If  Santa  Claus  had  happened  to  be 
listening  when  he  called  him  a  mean  old 
thing,  then  had  he  ruined  not  only  his  own 
chances,  but  Libby's  too.  That  fear  fol- 
lowed him  all  evening.  It  made  him 
vaguely  uncomfortable.  Even  when  they 
sat  down  to  supper  it  did  something  to  his 
appetite,  for  the  dumpling  stew  did  not  taste 
as  good  as  usual. 

21 


CHAPTER  II 

IT  was  several  days  before  Will'm  lost 
that  haunting  fear  of  having  displeased 
the  great  power  up  the  chimney  past  all  for- 
giveness. It  began  to  leave  him  gradually 
as  Libby  grew  more  and  more  sure  of  her 
own  state  of  favor.  She  was  so  good  in 
school  now  that  even  the  teacher  said  no- 
body could  be  better,  no  matter  how  hard 
he  tried.  She  stayed  every  day  to  help 
clean  the  blackboards  and  collect  the  pen- 
cils. She  never  missed  a  syllable  nor  stepped 
off  the  line  in  spelling  class,  nor  asked  for  a 
drink  in  lesson  time.  And  she  and  Maudie 
Peters  had  made  it  up  between  them  not  to 
whisper  a  single  word  until  after  Christmas. 
She  was  sure  now  that  even  if  Santa  Claus 
had  overheard  Will'm,  her  explanation  that 
he  was  too  little  to  know  any  better  had 
made  it  all  right. 

22 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

It  is  probable,  too,  that  Will'm's  state  of 
body  helped  his  state  of  mind,  for  about  this 
time  his  cold  was  well  enough  for  him  to 
play  out  of  doors,  and  the  thought  of  stars 
and  angels  and  silver  bells  began  to  be  agree- 
able again.  They  gave  him  that  big,  warm 
feeling  inside  again;  the  Christmas  feeling 
of  good-will  to  everybody. 

One  morning  he  was  sitting  up  on  a  post 
of  the  side  yard  fence,  when  the  passenger 
train  Number  Four  came  rushing  in  to  the 
station,  and  was  switched  back  on  a  side 
track  right  across  the  road  from  him.  It 
was  behind  time  and  had  to  wait  there  for 
orders  or  till  the  Western  Flyer  passed  it, 
or  for  some  such  reason.  It  was  a  happy 
morning  for  Will'm.  There  was  nothing  he 
enjoyed  so  much  as  having  one  of  these  long 
Pullman  trains  stop  where  he  could  watch  it. 
Night  after  night  he  and  Libby  had  flat- 
tened their  faces  against  the  sitting-room 
window  to  watch  the  seven  o'clock  limited 
pass  by.  Through  its  brilliantly  lighted 
windows  they  loved  to  see  the  passengers  at 

23 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

dinner.  The  white  tables  with  their  gleam 
of  glass  and  shine  of  silver  and  glow  of 
shaded  lights  seemed  wonderful  to  them 
More  wonderful  still  was  it  to  be  eating  as 
unconcernedly  as  if  one  were  at  home,  with 
the  train  jiggling  the  tables  while  it  leaped 
across  the  country  at  its  highest  speed.  The 
people  who  could  do  such  things  must  be 
wonderful  too. 

There  were  times  when  passengers 
flattening  their  faces  against  the  glass  to  see 
why  the  train  had  stopped,  caught  the  gleam 
of  a  cheerful  home  window  across  the  road, 
and  holding  shielding  hands  at  either  side 
of  their  eyes,  as  they  peered  through  the 
darkness,  smiled  to  discover  those  two  eager 
little  watchers,  who  counted  the  stopping 
of  the  Pullman  at  this  Junction  as  the 
greatest  event  of  the  day. 

Will'm  and  Libby  knew  nearly  every  en- 
gineer and  conductor  on  the  road  by  sight, 
and  had  their  own  names  for  them.  The 
engineer  on  this  morning  train  they  called 
Mr.  Smiley,  because  he  always  had  a  cheer- 

24 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

ful  grin  for  them,  and  sometimes  a  wave  of 
his  big  grimy  hand.  This  time  Mr.  Smiley 
was  too  busy  and  too  provoked  by  the  delay 
to  pay  any  attention  to  the  small  boy  perched 
on  the  fence  post.  Some  of  the  passengers 
finding  that  they  might  have  to  wait  half  an 
hour  or  more  began  to  climb  out  and  walk 
up  and  down  the  road  past  him.  Several 
of  them  attracted  by  the  wares  in  the  win- 
dow of  the  little  notion  shop  which  had  once 
been  a  parlor,  sauntered  in  and  came  out 
again,  eating  some  of  Grandma  Neal's 
doughnuts.  Presently  Will'm  noticed  that 
everybody  who  passed  a  certain  sleeping 
coach,  stooped  down  and  looked  under  it. 
He  felt  impelled  to  look  under  it  himself 
and  discover  why.  So  he  climbed  down 
from  the  post  and  trudged  along  the  road, 
kicking  the  rocks  out  of  his  way  with  stubby 
little  shoes  already  scuffed  from  much  pre- 
vious kicking.  At  the  same  moment  the 
steward  of  the  dining-car  stepped  down  from 
the  vestibuled  platform,  and  strolled  towards 
him,  with  his  hands  in  his  trousers'  pockets. 

25 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"Hullo,  son!"  he  remarked  good-hu- 
moredly  in  passing,  giving  an  amused 
glance  at  the  solemn  child  stuffed  into  a  gray 
sweater  and  blue  mittens,  with  a  toboggan 
cap  pulled  down  over  his  soft  bobbed  hair. 
Usually  Will'm  responded  to  such  greet- 
ings. So  many  people  came  into  the  shop 
that  he  was  not  often  abashed  by  strangers. 
But  this  time  he  was  so  busy  looking  at  some- 
thing that  dangled  from  the  steward's  vest 
pocket  that  he  failed  to  say  "Hullo"  back  at 
him.  It  was  what  seemed  to  be  the  smallest 
gold  watch  he  had  ever  seen,  and  it  im- 
pressed him  as  very  queer  that  the  man 
should  wear  it  on  the  outside  of  his  pocket 
instead  of  the  inside.  He  stopped  still  in 
the  road  and  stared  at  it  until  the  man 
passed  him,  then  he  turned  and  followed  him 
slowly  at  a  distance. 

A  few  rods  further  on,  the  steward  stooped 
and  looked  under  the  coach,  and  spoke  to  a 
man  who  was  out  of  sight,  but  who  was  ham- 
mering on  the  other  side.  A  voice  called 
back  something  about  a  hot-box  and  cutting 

26 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

out  that  coach,  and  reminded  of  his  original 
purpose,  Will'm  followed  on  and  looked, 
likewise.  Although  he  squatted  down  and 
looked  for  a  long  time  he  couldn't  see  a 
single  box,  only  the  legs  of  the  man  who  was 
hammering  on  the  other  side.  But  just  as 
he  straightened  up  again  he  caught  the 
gleam  of  something  round  and  shiningly 
golden,  something  no  bigger  than  a  quarter, 
lying  almost  between  his  feet.  It  was  a 
tiny  baby  watch  like  the  one  that  swung 
from  the  steward's  vest  pocket. 

Thrilled  by  the  discovery,  Will'm  picked 
it  up  and  fondled  it  with  both  little  blue  mit- 
tens. It  did  n't  tick  when  he  held  it  to  his 
ear,  and  he  could  n't  open  it,  but  he  was  sure 
that  Uncle  Neal  could  open  it  and  start  it 
to  going,  and  he  was  sure  that  it  was  the 
littlest  watch  in  the  world.  It  never  oc- 
curred to  him  that  finding  it  had  n't  made  it 
his  own  to  have  and  to  carry  home,  just  like 
the  rainbow-lined  mussel  shells  that  he  some- 
times picked  up  on  the  creek  bank,  or  the  sil- 
ver dime  he  had  once  found  in  a  wagon  rut. 

27 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Then  he  looked  up  to  see  the  steward 
strolling  back  towards  him  again,  his  hands 
still  in  his  trousers'  pockets.  But  this  time 
no  fascinating  baby  watch  bobbed  back  and 
forth  against  his  vest  as  he  walked,  and 
Will'm  knew  with  a  sudden  stab  of  disap- 
pointment that  was  as  bad  as  earache,  that 
the  watch  he  was  fondling  could  never  be 
his  to  carry  home  and  show  proudly  to 
Uncle  Neal.     It  belonged  to  the  man. 

"Here!"  he  said,  holding  it  out  in  the  blue 
mitten. 

"Well,  I  vow!"  exclaimed  the  steward, 
looking  down  at  his  watchfob,  and  then 
snatching  the  little  disk  of  gold  from  the 
outstretched  hand.  "I  would  n't  have  lost 
that  for  hardly  anything.  It  must  have 
come  loose  when  I  stooped  to  look  under  the 
car.  I  think  more  of  that  than  almost  any- 
thing I  Ve  got.     See?" 

And  then  Will'm  saw  that  it  was  not  a 
watch,  but  a  little  locket  made  to  hang  from 
a  bar  that  was  fastened  to  a  wide  black  rib- 
bon fob.     The  man  pulled  out  the  fob,  and 

28 


"  Here  !  "  he  said 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

there  on  the  other  end,  where  it  had  been 
in  his  pocket  all  the  time,  was  a  big  watch, 
as  big  as  Will'm's  fist.  The  locket  flew 
open  when  he  touched  a  spring,  and  there 
were  two  pictures  inside.  One  of  a  lady  and 
one  of  a  jolly,  fat-cheeked  baby. 

"Well,  little  man!"  exclaimed  the  stew- 
ard, with  a  hearty  clap  on  the  shoulder  that 
nearly  upset  him.  "You  don't  know  how 
big  a  favor  you  Ve  done  me  by  finding  that 
locket.  You  're  just  about  the  nicest  boy 
I  've  come  across  yet.  I  '11  have  to  tell 
Santa  Claus  about  you.  What 's  your 
name? " 

Will'm  told  him  and  pointed  across  to  the 
shop,  when  asked  where  he  lived.  At  the 
steward's  high  praise  Will'm  was  ready  to 
take  the  Sky  Road  himself,  when  he  heard 
that  he  was  to  be  reported  to  the  Master  of 
the  Reindeer  as  the  nicest  boy  the  steward 
had  come  across.  His  disappointment  van- 
ished so  quickly  that  he  even  forgot  that  he 
had  been  disappointed,  and  when  the  stew- 
ard caught  him  under  the  arms  and  swung 

31 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

him  up  the  steps,  saying  something  about 
finding  an  orange,  he  was  thrilled  with  a  wild 
brave  sense  of  adventure. 

Discovering  that  Will'm  had  never  been 
on  a  Pullman  since  he  could  remember,  the 
steward  took  him  through  the  diner  to  the 
kitchen,  showing  him  all  the  sights  and  ex- 
plaining all  the  mysteries.  It  was  as  good 
as  a  show  to  watch  the  child's  face.  He  had 
never  dreamed  that  such  roasting  and  broil- 
ing went  on  in  the  narrow  space  of  the  car 
kitchen,  or  that  such  quantities  of  eatables 
were  stored  away  in  the  mammoth  refriger- 
ators which  stood  almost  touching  the  red 
hot  ranges.  Big  shining  fish  from  far-off 
waters,  such  as  the  Junction  had  never 
heard  of,  lay  blocked  in  ice  in  one  compart- 
ment. Ripe  red  strawberries  lay  in  another, 
although  it  was  mid  December,  and  in 
Will'm's  part  of  the  world  strawberries  were 
not  to  be  thought  of  before  the  first  of  June. 
There  were  more  eggs  than  all  the  hens  at 
the  Junction  could  lay  in  a  week,  and  a 
white-capped,    white- jacketed    colored-man 

32 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

was  beating  up  a  dozen  or  so  into  a  white 
mountain  of  meringue,  which  the  passen- 
gers would  eat  by  and  by  in  the  shape  of 
some  strange,  delicious  dessert,  sitting  at 
those  fascinating  tables  he  had  passed  on  his 
way  in. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  when  Will'm 
found  himself  on  the  ground  again,  gazing 
after  the  departing  train,  he  was  a  trifle 
dazed  with  all  he  had  seen  and  heard.  But 
three  things  were  clear  in  his  mind.  That 
he  held  in  one  hand  a  great  yellow  orange, 
in  the  other  a  box  of  prize  pop-corn,  and  in 
his  heart  the  precious  assurance  that  Santa 
Claus  would  be  told  by  one  in  high  authority 
that  he  was  a  good  boy. 

So  elated  was  he  by  this  last  fact,  that  he 
decided  on  the  way  home  to  send  a  letter  up 
the  chimney  on  his  own  account,  especially 
as  he  knew  now  exactly  what  to  ask  for. 
He  had  been  a  bit  hazy  on  the  question  be- 
fore. Now  he  knew  beyond  all  doubt  that 
what  he  wanted  more  than  anything  in  the 
wide  world,  was  a  ride  on  a  Pullman  car. 

33 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

He  wanted  to  sit  at  one  of  those  tables,  and 
eat  things  that  had  been  cooked  in  that  mys- 
terious kitchen,  at  the  same  time  that  he  was 
flying  along  through  the  night  on  the  wings 
of  a  mighty  dragon  breathing  out  smoke  and 
fire  as  it  flew. 

He  went  in  to  the  house  by  way  of  the 
shop  so  that  he  might  make  the  bell  go  ting- 
a-ling.  It  was  so  delightfully  like  the  bells 
on  the  camels,  also  like  the  bells  on  the 
sleigh  which  would  be  coming  before  so  very 
long  to  bring  him  what  he  wanted. 

Miss  Sally  Watts  was  sitting  behind  the 
counter,  crocheting.  To  his  question  of 
"Where  's  Dranma?"  she  answered  without 
looking  up. 

"She  and  Mr.  Neal  have  driven  over  to 
Westfield.  They  have  some  business  at  the 
court  house.  She  said  you  're  not  to  go 
off  the  place  again  till  she  gets  back.  I  was 
to  tell  you  when  you  came  in.  She  looked 
everywhere  to  find  you  before  she  left,  be- 
cause she  's  going  to  be  gone  till  late  in  the 
afternoon.     Where  you  been,  anyhow?" 

34> 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

Will'm  told  her.  Miss  Sally  was  a 
neighbor  who  often  helped  in  the  shop  at 
times  like  this,  and  he  was  always  glad  when 
such  times  came.  It  was  easy  to  tell  Miss 
Sally  things,  and  presently  when  a  few  di- 
rect questions  disclosed  the  fact  that  Miss 
Sally  "bleeved"  as  he  did,  he  asked  her  an- 
other question,  which  had  been  puzzling  him 
ever  since  he  had  decided  to  ask  for  a  ride 
on  the  train. 

"How  can  Santa  put  a  ride  in  a  stock- 
ing?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Miss  Sally,  still 
intent  on  her  crocheting.  "But  then  I  don't 
really  see  how  he  can  put  anything  in ;  sleds 
or  dolls  or  anything  of  the  sort.  He  's  a 
mighty  mysterious  man  to  me.  But  then, 
probably  he  would  n't  try  to  put  the  ride  in 
a  stocking.  He  'd  send  the  ticket  or  the 
money  to  buy  it  with.  And  he  might  give 
it  to  you  beforehand,  and  not  wait  for  stock- 
ing-hanging time,  knowing  how  much  you 
want  it." 

All  this  from  Miss  Sally  because  Mrs. 

35 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Neal  had  just  told  her  that  the  children  were 
to  be  sent  to  their  father  the  day  before 
Christmas,  and  that  they  were  to  go  on  a 
Pullman  car,  because  the  ordinary  coaches 
did  not  go  straight  through.  The  children 
were  too  small  to  risk  changing  cars,  and 
he  was  too  busy  to  come  for  them. 

Will'm  stayed  in  the  shop  the  rest  of  the 
morning,  for  Miss  Sally  echoing  the  senti- 
ment of  everybody  at  the  Junction,  felt  sorry 
for  the  poor  little  fellow  who  was  soon  to  be 
sent  away  to  a  stepmother,  and  felt  that  it 
was  her  duty  to  do  what  she  could  toward 
making  his  world  as  pleasant  as  possible  for 
him,  while  she  had  the  opportunity. 

Together  they  ate  the  lunch  which  had 
been  left  on  the  pantry  shelves  for  them. 
Will'm  helped  set  it  out  on  the  table.  Then 
he  went  back  into  the  shop  with  Miss  Sally. 
But  his  endless  questions  "got  on  her 
nerves"  after  awhile,  she  said,  and  she  sud- 
denly ceased  to  be  the  good  company  that 
she  had  been  all  morning.  She  mended  the 
fire  in  the  sitting-room  and  told  Will'm  he  'd 

36 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

better  play  in  there  till  Libby  came  home. 
It  was  an  endless  afternoon,  so  long  that 
after  he  had  done  everything  that  he  could 
think  of  to  pass  the  time,  he  decided  he  'd 
write  his  own  letter  and  send  it  up  the  chim- 
ney himself.  He  could  n't  possibly  wait  for 
Libby  to  come  home  and  do  it.  He  'd  write 
a  picture  letter.  It  was  easier  to  read  pic- 
tures than  print,  anyhow.  At  least  for 
him.  He  slipped  back  into  the  shop  long 
enough  to  get  paper  and  a  pencil  from  the 
old  secretary  in  the  corner,  and  then  lying 
on  his  stomach  on  the  hearth-rug  with  his 
heels  in  the  air,  he  began  drawing  his  favor- 
ite sketch,  a  train  of  cars. 

All  that  can  be  said  of  the  picture  is  that 
one  could  recognize  what  it  was  meant  for. 
The  wheels  were  wobbly  and  no  two  of  the 
same  size,  the  windows  zigzagged  in  uneven 
lines  and  were  of  varied  shapes.  The  cow- 
catcher looked  as  if  it  could  toss  anything  it 
might  pick  up  high  enough  to  join  the  cow 
that  jumped  over  the  moon.  But  it  was 
unmistakably  a  train,  and  the  long  line  of 

37 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

smoke  pouring  back  over  it  from  the  tipsy- 
smoke-stack  showed  that  it  was  going  at 
the  top  of  its  speed.  Despite  the  straggling 
scratchy  lines  any  art  critic  must  acknowl- 
edge that  it  had  in  it  that  intangible  quality 
known  as  life  and  "go." 

It  puzzled  Will'm  at  first  to  know  how  to 
introduce  himself  into  the  picture  so  as  to 
show  that  he  was  the  one  wanting  a  ride. 
Finally  on  top  of  one  of  the  cars  he  drew  a 
figure  supposed  to  represent  a  boy,  and  after 
long  thought,  drew  one  just  like  it,  except 
that  the  second  figure  wore  a  skirt.  He 
did  n't  want  to  take  the  ride  alone.  He  'd 
be  almost  afraid  to  go  without  Libby,  and  he 
knew  very  well  that  she  'd  like  to  go.  She  'd 
often  played  "S'posen"  they  were  riding 
away  off  to  the  other  side  of  the  world  on 
one  of  those  trains  which  they  watched 
nightly  pass  the  sitting-room  window. 

He  wished  he  could  spell  his  name  and 
hers.  He  know  only  the  letters  with  which 
each  began,  and  he  was  n't  sure  of  either 
unless  he  could  see  the  picture  on  the  other 

38 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

side  of  the  building  block  on  which  it  was 
printed.  The  box  of  blocks  was  in  the 
sitting-room  closet.  He  brought  it  out, 
emptied  it  on  the  rug  and  searched  until  he 
found  the  block  bearing  the  picture  of  a  lion. 
That  was  the  king  of  beasts,  and  the  L  on 
the  other  side  which  stood  for  Lion,  stood 
also  for  Libby.  Very  slowly  and  painstak- 
ingly he  copied  the  letter  on  his  drawing, 
placing  it  directly  across  the  girl's  skirt  so 
that  there  could  be  no  mistake.  Then  he 
pawed  over  the  blocks  till  he  found  the  one 
with  the  picture  of  a  whale.  That  was  the 
king  of  fishes,  and  the  W  on  the  other  side 
which  stood  for  Whale,  stood  also  for  Wil- 
liam. He  tried  putting  the  W  across  the 
boy,  but  as  each  leg  was  represented  by  one 
straight  line  only,  bent  at  right  angles  at  the 
bottom  to  make  a  foot,  the  result  was  confus- 
ing. He  rubbed  out  the  legs,  made  them 
anew,  and  put  the  W  over  the  boy's  head, 
drawing  a  thin  line  from  the  end  of  the  W  to 
the  crossed  scratches  representing  fingers. 
That  plainly  showed  that  the  Boy  and  the 

39 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

W  were  one  and  the  same,  although  it  gave 
to  the  unenlightened  the  idea  that  the  picture 
had  something  to  do  with  flying  a  kite. 
Then  he  rubbed  out  the  L  on  Libby's  skirt 
and  placed  it  over  her  head,  likewise  con- 
necting her  letter  with  her  fingers. 

The  rubbing-out  process  gave  a  smudgy 
effect.  Will'm  was  not  satisfied  with  the 
result,  and  like  a  true  artist  who  counts  all 
labor  as  naught,  which  helps  him  towards 
that  perfection  which  is  his  ideal,  he  laid 
aside  the  drawing  as  unworthy  and  began 
another. 

The  second  was  better.  He  accom- 
plished it  with  a  more  certain  touch  and  with 
no  smudges,  and  filled  with  the  joy  of  a 
creator,  sat  and  looked  at  it  a  few  minutes 
before  starting  it  on  its  flight  up  the  flue 
towards  the  Sky  Road. 

The  great  moment  was  over.  He  had 
just  drawn  back  from  watching  it  start 
when  Libby  came  in.  She  came  primly  and 
quietly  this  time.  She  had  waited  to  leave 
her  overshoes  on  the  porch,  her  lunch  basket 

40 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

in  the  kitchen,  her  wraps  in  the  entry.  The 
white  ruffled  apron  which  she  had  worn  all 
day  was  scarcely  mussed.  The  bows  on 
her  narrow  braids  stuck  out  stiffly  and 
properly.  Her  shoes  were  tied  and  the  laces 
tucked  in.  She  walked  on  tiptoe,  and 
every  movement  showed  that  she  was  keep- 
ing up  the  reputation  she  had  earned  of  be- 
ing "so  good  that  nobody  could  be  any  bet- 
ter, no  matter  how  hard  he  tried."  She 
had  been  that  good  for  over  a  week. 

Will'm  ran  to  get  the  orange  which  had 
been  given  him  that  morning.  He  had  been 
saving  it  for  this  moment  of  division.  He 
had  already  opened  the  pop-corn  box  and 
found  the  prize,  a  little  china  cup  no  larger 
than  a  thimble,  and  had  used  it  at  lunch, 
dipping  a  sip  at  a  time  from  his  glass  of  milk. 

The  interest  with  which  she  listened  to 
his  account  of  finding  the  locket  and  being 
taken  aboard  the  train  made  him  feel  like  a 
hero.     He  hastened  to  increase  her  respect. 

"Nen  the  man  said  that  I  was  about  the 
nicest  little  boy  he  ever  saw  and  he  would 

41 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

tell  Santa  Claus  so.  An'  I  knew  everything 
was  all  right  so  I  Ve  just  sended  a  letter  up 
to  tell  him  to  please  give  me  a  ride  on  the 
Pullman  train." 

Libby  smiled  in  an  amused,  big-sister  sort 
of  way,  asking  how  Will'm  supposed  any- 
body could  read  his  letters.  He  could  n't 
write  anything  but  scratches. 

"But  it  was  a  picture  letter!"  Will'm  ex- 
plained triumphantly.  "Anybody  can  read 
picture  letters."  Then  he  proceeded  to  tell 
what  he  had  made  and  how  he  had  marked 
it  with  the  initials  of  the  Lion  and  the 
Whale. 

To  his  intense  surprise  Libby  looked  first 
startled,  then  troubled,  then  despairing. 
His  heart  seemed  to  drop  down  into  his 
shoes  when  she  exclaimed  in  a  tragic  tone: 

"Well,  Will'm  Branfield!  If  you 
have  n't  gone  and  done  it !  I  don't  know 
what  ever  is  going  to  happen  to  us  now!" 

Then  she  explained.  She  had  already 
written  a  letter  for  him,  with  Susie  Peters's 
help,  asking  in  writing  what  she  had  asked 

42 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

before  by  word  of  mouth,  that  he  be  for- 
given, and  requesting  that  he  might  not  find 
his  stocking  empty  on  Christmas  morning. 
As  to  what  should  be  in  it,  she  had  left  that 
to  Santa's  generosity,  because  Will'm  had 
never  said  what  he  wanted. 

"And  now,"  she  added  reproachfully, 
"I've  told  you  that  we  ought  n't  to  ask  for 
more  than  one  thing  apiece,  'cause  this  is 
the  first  time  he  's  ever  been  to  this  house, 
and  it  does  n't  seem  polite  to  ask  f^r  so  much 
from  a  stranger." 

Will'm  defended  himself,  his  chin  tilted 
at  an  angle  that  should  have  been  a  warning 
to  one  who  could  read  such  danger  signals. 

"I  only  asked  for  one  thing  for  me  and 
one  for  you." 

"Yes,  but  don't  you  see,  I  had  already 
asked  for  something  for  each  of  us,  so  that 
makes  two  things  apiece,"  was  the  almost 
tearful  answer. 

"Well,  I  are  n't  to  blame,"  persisted 
Will'm,  "you  didn't  tell  me  what  you'd 
done." 


MISS  SANTA  GLAUS 

"But  you  ought  to  have  waited  and  asked 
me  before  you  sent  it,"  insisted  Libby. 

"I  oughtn't!" 

"You  ought,  I  say!"  This  with  a  stamp 
of  her  foot  for  emphasis. 

"I  oughtn't,  Miss  Smarty!"  This  time 
a  saucy  little  tongue  thrust  itself  out  at  her 
from  Will'm's  mouth,  and  his  face  was 
screwed  into  the  ugliest  twist  he  could  make. 

Again  he  had  the  shock  of  a  great  sur- 
prise, when  Libby  did  not  answer  with  a 
worse  face.  Instead  she  lifted  her  head  a 
little,  and  said  in  a  voice  almost  honey-sweet, 
but  so  loud  that  it  seemed  intended  for  other 
ears  than  Will'm's,  "Very  well,  have  your 
own  way,  brother,  but  Santa  Claus  knows 
that  I  did  n't  want  to  be  greedy  and  ask  for 
two  things!" 

William  answered  in  what  was  fairly  a 
shout,  "An'  he  knows  that  I  did  n't, 
neether!" 

The  shout  was  followed  by  a  whisper: 
"Say,  Libby,  do  you  s'pose  he  heard  that?" 

Libby's  answer  was  a  convincing  nod. 

44 


CHAPTER    III 

AFTER  spending  several  days  won- 
dering how  she  could  best  break  the 
news  to  the  children  that  their  father  was 
going  to  take  them  away,  Mrs.  Neal  decided 
that  she  would  wait  until  the  last  possible 
moment.  Then  she  would  tell  them  that 
their  father  had  a  Christmas  present  for 
them,  nicer  than  anything  he  had  ever  given 
them  before.  It  was  something  that 
could  n't  be  sent  to  them,  so  he  wanted  them 
to  go  all  the  way  on  the  cars  to  his  new 
home,  to  see  it.  Then  after  they  had 
guessed  everything  they  could  think  of,  and 
were  fairly  hopping  up  and  down  with  impa- 
tient curiosity,  she  'd  tell  them  what  it  was : 
a  new  mother! 

She  decided  not  to  tell  them  that  they 
were  never  coming  back  to  the  Junction  to 
live.     It  would  be  better  for  them  to  think 

45 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

of  this  return  to  their  father  as  just  a  visit 
until  they  were  used  to  their  new  surround- 
ings. It  would  make  it  easier  for  all  con- 
cerned if  they  could  be  started  off  happy 
and  pleasantly  expectant.  Then  if  Molly 
had  grown  up  to  be  as  nice  a  woman  as  she 
had  been  a  young  girl,  she  could  safely  trust 
the  rest  to  her.  The  children  would  soon 
be  loving  her  so  much  that  they  would  n't 
want  to  come  back. 

But  Mrs.  Neal  had  not  taken  into  account 
that  her  news  was  no  longer  a  secret.  Told 
to  one  or  two  friends  in  confidence,  it  had 
passed  from  lip  to  lip  and  had  been  discussed 
in  so  many  homes,  that  half  the  children  at 
the  Junction  knew  that  poor  little  Libby 
and  Will'm  Branfield  were  to  have  a  step- 
mother, before  they  knew  it  themselves. 
Maudie  Peters  told  Libby  on  their  way 
home  from  school  one  day,  and  told  it  in  such 
a  tone  that  she  made  Libby  feel  that  having 
a  stepmother  was  about  the  worst  calamity 
that  could  befall  one.  Libby  denied  it 
stoutly. 

46 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

"But  you  are!"  Maudie  insisted.  "I 
heard  mama  and  Aunt  Louisa  talking 
about  it.  They  said  they  certainly  felt 
sorry  for  you,  and  mama  said  that  she 
hoped  and  prayed  that  her  children  would 
be  spared  such  a  fate,  because  stepmothers 
are  always  unkind." 

Libby  flew  home  with  her  tearful  ques- 
tion, positive  that  Grandma  Neal  would 
say  that  Maudie  was  mistaken,  but  with  a 
scared,  shaky  feeling  in  her  knees,  because 
Maudie  had  been  so  calmly  and  provokingly 
sure.  Grandma  Neal  could  deny  only  a 
•part  of  Maudie's  story. 

"I  'd  like  to  spank  that  meddlesome 
Peters  child!"  she  exclaimed  indignantly. 
"Here  I  've  been  keeping  it  as  a  grand  sur- 
prise for  you  that  your  father  is  going  to 
give  you  a  new  mother  for  Christmas,  and 
thinking  what  a  fine  time  you  'd  have  going 
on  the  cars  to  see  them,  and  now  Maudie 
has  to  go  and  tattle,  and  tell  it  in  such 
an  ugly  way  that  she  makes  it  seem  like 
something     bad,     instead     of     the     nicest 

47 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

thing  that  could  happen  to  you.  Listen, 
Libby!" 

For  Libby,  at  this  confirmation  of 
Maudie's  tale,  instead  of  the  denial  which 
she  hoped  for,  had  crooked  her  arm  over  her 
face,  and  was  crying  out  loud  into  her  little 
brown  gingham  sleeve,  as  if  her  heart  would 
break.  Mrs.  Neal  sat  down  and  drew  the 
sobbing  child  into  her  lap. 

"Listen,  Libby!"  she  said  again.  "This 
lady  that  your  father  has  married,  used  to 
live  here  at  the  Junction  when  she  was  a 
little  girl  no  bigger  than  you.  Her  name 
was  Molly  Blair,  and  she  looked  something 
like  you — had  the  same  color  hair,  and  wore 
it  in  two  little  plaits  just  as  you  do.  Every- 
body liked  her.  She  was  so  gentle  and  kind 
she  would  n't  have  done  anything  to  hurt 
any  one's  feelings  any  more  than  a  little 
white  kitten  would.  Your  father  was  a  boy 
then,  and  he  lived  here,  and  they  went  to 
school  together  and  played  together  just 
as  you  and  Walter  Gray  do.  He  's  known 
her  all  her  life,  and  he  knew  very  well  when 

48 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

he  asked  her  to  take  the  place  of  a  mother 
to  his  little  children  that  she  'd  be  dear  and 
good  to  you.  Do  you  think  that  you  could 
change  so  in  growing  up  that  you  could  be 
unkind  to  any  little  child  that  was  put  in 
your  care?" 

"No— o!"  sobbed  Libby. 

"And  neither  could  she  I"  was  the  em- 
phatic answer.  "You  can  just  tell  Maudie 
Peters  that  she  does  n't  know  what  she  is 
talking  about." 

Libby  repeated  the  message  next  day,  em- 
phatically and  defiantly,  with  her  chin  in  the 
air.  That  talk  with  Grandma  Neal  and 
another  longer  one  which  followed  at  bed- 
time, helped  her  to  see  things  in  their 
right  light.  Besides,  several  things  which 
Grandma  Neal  told  her  made  a  visit  to  her 
father  seem  quite  desirable.  It  would  be 
fine  to  be  in  a  city  where  there  is  something 
interesting  to  see  every  minute.  She  knew 
from  other  sources  that  in  a  city  you  might 
expect  a  hand-organ  and  a  monkey  to  come 
down  the  street  almost  any  day.     And  it 

49 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

would  be  grand  to  live  in  a  house  like  the  one 
they  were  going  to,  with  an  up-stairs  to  it, 
and  a  piano  in  the  parlor. 

But  despite  Mrs.  Neal's  efforts  to  set 
matters  straight,  the  poison  of  Maudie's 
suggestion  had  done  its  work.  Will'm  had 
been  in  the  room  when  Libby  came  home 
with  her  question,  and  the  wild  way  she 
broke  out  crying  made  him  feel  that  some- 
thing awful  was  going  to  happen  to  them. 
He  had  never  heard  of  a  stepmother  before. 
By  some  queer  association  of  words  his 
baby  brain  confused  it  with  a  step-ladder. 
There  was  such  a  ladder  in  the  shop  with  a 
broken  hinge.  He  was  always  being  warned 
not  to  climb  up  on  it.  It  might  fall  over 
with  him  and  hurt  him  dreadfully.  Even 
when  everything  had  been  explained  to  him, 
and  he  agreed  that  it  would  be  lovely  to 
take  that  long  ride  on  the  Pullman  to  see 
poor  father,  who  was  so  lonely  without  his 
little  boy,  the  poison  of  Maudie's  suggestion 
still  stayed  with  him.  Something,  he  did  n't 
know  exactly  what,  but  something  was  go- 

50 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

ing  to  fall  with  him  and  hurt  him  dreadfully 
if  he  did  n't  look  out. 

It's  strange  how  much  there  is  to  learn 
about  persons  after  you  once  begin  to  hear 
of  them.  It  had  been  that  way  about  Santa 
Claus.  They  had  scarcely  known  his  name, 
and  then  all  of  a  sudden  they  heard  so  much, 
that  instead  of  being  a  complete  stranger  he 
was  a  part  of  everything  they  said  and  did 
and  thought.  Now  they  were  learning  just 
as  fast  about  stepmothers.  Grandma  and 
Uncle  Neal  and  Miss  Sally  told  them  a 
great  deal;  all  good  things.  And  it  was 
surprising  how  much  else  they  had  learned 
that  was  n't  good,  just  by  the  wag  of  some- 
body's head,  or  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  or 
the  pitying  way  some  of  the  customers  spoke 
to  them. 

When  Libby  came  crying  home  from 
school  the  second  time,  because  one  of  the 
boys  called  her  Cinderella,  and  told  her  she 
would  have  to  sit  in  the  ashes  and  wear  rags, 
and  another  one  said  no,  she  'd  be  like  Snow- 
white,    and    have    to    eat   poisoned    apple, 

51 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Grandma  Neal  was  so  indignant  that  she 
sent  after  Libby's  books,  saying  that  she 
would  not  be  back  at  school  any  more. 

Next  day,  Libby  told  Will'm  the  rest  of 
what  the  boys  had  said  to  her.  "All  the 
stepmothers  in  stories  are  cruel  like  Cin- 
derella's and  Snow-white's,  and  sometimes 
they  are  cruel.  They  are  always  cruel 
when  they  have  a  tusk."  Susie  Peters  told 
her  what  a  tusk  is,  and  showed  her  a  picture 
of  a  cruel  hag  that  had  one.  "It 's  an  awful 
long  ugly  tooth  that  sticks  away  out  of  the 
side  of  your  mouth  like  a  pig's." 

It  was  a  puzzle  for  both  Libby  and  Will'm 
to  know  whom  to  believe.  They  had  sided 
with  Maudie  and  the  others  in  their  faith  in 
Santa  Claus.  How  could  they  tell  but  that 
Grandma  and  Uncle  Neal  might  be  mis- 
taken about  their  belief  in  stepmothers  too? 

Fortunately  there  were  not  many  days 
in  which  to  worry  over  the  problem,  and  the 
few  that  lay  between  the  time  of  Libby's 
leaving  school  and  their  going  away,  were 
filled   with   preparations   for   the  journey. 

52 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

Of  course  Libby  and  Will'm  had  little  part 
in  that,  except  to  collect  the  few  toys  they 
owned,  and  lay  them  beside  the  trunk  which 
had  been  brought  down  from  the  attic  to 
the  sitting-room. 

Libby  had  a  grand  washing  of  doll 
clothes  one  morning,  and  while  she  was 
hanging  out  the  tiny  garments  on  a  string, 
stretched  from  one  chair-back  to  another, 
Will'm  proceeded  to  give  his  old  Teddy 
Bear  a  bath  in  the  suds  which  she  had  left 
in  the  basin.  Plush  does  not  take  kindly  to 
soap-suds,  no  matter  how  much  it  needs  it. 
It  would  have  been  far  better  for  poor 
Teddy  to  have  started  on  his  travels  dirty, 
than  to  have  become  the  pitiable,  bedraggled- 
looking  object  that  Libby  snatched  from  the 
basin  some  time  later,  where  Will'm  put 
him  to  soak.  It  seemed  as  if  the  soggy  cot- 
ton body  never  would  dry  sufficiently  to  be 
packed  in  the  trunk,  and  Will'm  would  not 
hear  to  its  being  left  behind,  although  it 
looked  so  dreadful  that  he  didn't  like  to 
touch  it.     So  it  hung  by  a  cord  around  its 

53 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

neck  in  front  of  the  fire  for  two  whole  days, 
and  everybody  who  passed  it  gave  the  cord 
a  twist,  so  that  it  was  kept  turning  like  a 
roast  on  a  spit. 

There  were  more  errands  than  usual  to 
keep  the  children  busy,  and  more  ways  in 
which  they  could  help.  As  Christmas  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  somebody  was  needed  in 
the  shop  every  minute,  and  Mrs.  Neal  had 
her  hands  full  with  the  extra  work  of  look- 
ing over  their  clothes  and  putting  every  gar- 
ment in  order.  Besides  there  was  all  the 
holiday  baking  to  fill  the  shelves  in  the  shop 
as  well  as  in  her  own  pantry. 

So  the  children  were  called  upon  to  set 
the  table  and  help  wipe  the  dishes.  They 
dusted  the  furniture  within  their  reach  and 
fed  the  cat.  They  brought  in  chips  from 
the  woodhouse  and  shelled  corn  by  the  bas- 
ketful for  the  old  gray  hens.  And  every 
day  they  carried  the  eggs  very  slowly  and 
carefully  from  the  nests  to  the  pantry  and 
put  them  one  by  one  into  the  box  of  bran 
on  the  shelf.     Then  several  mornings,  all 

54 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

specially  scrubbed  and  clean-aproned  for 
the  performance,  they  knelt  on  chairs  by  the 
kitchen  table,  and  cut  out  rows  and  rows 
of  little  Christmas  cakes,  from  the  sheets  of 
smoothly  rolled  dough  on  the  floury  cake 
boards.  There  were  hearts  and  stars  and 
cats  and  birds  and  all  sorts  of  queer  animals. 
Then  after  the  baking  there  were  delightful 
times  when  they  hung  breathlessly  over  the 
table,  watching  while  scallops  of  pink  or 
white  icing  were  zigzagged  around  the  stars 
and  hearts,  and  pink  eyes  were  put  on  the 
beasts  and  birds.  Then  of  course  the  bowls 
which  held  the  candied  icing  always  had  to 
be  scraped  clean  by  busy  little  fingers  that 
went  from  bowl  to  mouth  and  back  again, 
almost  as  fast  as  a  kitten  could  lap  with  its 
pink  tongue. 

Oh,  those  last  days  in  the  old  kitchen  and 
sitting-room  behind  the  shop  were  the  best 
days  of  all,  and  it  was  good  that  Will'm  and 
Libby  were  kept  so  busy  every  minute  that 
they  had  no  time  to  realize  that  they  were 
last  days,  and  that  they  were  rapidly  com- 

55 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

ing  to  an  end.  It  was  not  until  the  last 
night  that  Will'm  seemed  to  comprehend 
that  they  were  really  going  away  the  next 
day. 

He  had  been  very  busy  helping  get  sup- 
per, for  it  was  the  kind  that  he  specially 
liked.  Uncle  Neal  had  brought  in  a  rab- 
bit all  ready  skinned  and  dressed,  which  he 
had  trapped  that  afternoon,  and  Will'm 
had  gone  around  the  room  for  nearly  an 
hour,  sniffing  hungrily  while  it  sputtered 
and  browned  in  the  skillet,  smelling  more 
tempting  and  delectable  every  minute. 
And  he  had  watched  while  Grandma  Neal 
lifted  each  crisp,  brown  piece  up  on  a  fork, 
and  laid  it  on  the  hot  waiting  platter,  and 
then  stirred  into  the  skillet  the  things  that 
go  to  the  making  of  a  delicious  cream  gravy. 

Suddenly  in  the  ecstasy  of  anticipation 
Will'm  was  moved  to  throw  his  arms  around 
Grandma  Neal's  skirts,  gathering  them  in 
about  her  knees  in  such  a  violent  hug  that 
he  almost  upset  her. 

"Oh,  rabbit  dravy!"  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone 

56 


"Oh,  rabbit  dravy  /"  he  cried 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

of  such  rapture  that  everybody  laughed. 
Uncle  Neal,  who  had  already  taken  his 
place  at  the  table,  and  was  waiting  too,  with 
his  chair  tipped  back  on  its  hind  legs, 
reached  forward  and  gave  Will'm's  cheek  a 
playful  pinch. 

"It 's  easy  to  tell  what  you  think  is  the 
best  tasting  thing  in  the  world,"  he  said 
teasingly.  "Just  the  smell  of  it  puts  the 
smile  on  your  face  that  won't  wear  off." 

Always  when  his  favorite  dish  was  on  the 
table,  Will'm  passed  his  plate  back  several 
times  for  more.  To-night  after  the  fourth 
ladleful  Uncle  Neal  hesitated.  "Have  n't 
you  had  about  all  that 's  good  for  you, 
kiddo?"  he  asked.  "Remember  you're  go- 
ing away  in  the  morning,  and  you  don't 
want  to  make  yourself  sick  when  you  're 
starting  off  with  just  Libby  to  look  after 
you." 

There  was  no  answer  for  a  second.  Then 
Will'm  could  n't  climb  out  of  his  chair  fast 
enough  to  hide  the  trembling  of  his  mouth 
and  the  gathering  of  unmanly  tears.     He 

59 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

cast  himself  across  Mrs.  Neal's  lap,  scream- 
ing, "I  aren't  going  away!  I  won't  leave 
my  Dranma,  and  I  won't  go  where  there  '11 
never  be  any  more  good  rabbit  dravy!" 

They  quieted  him  after  awhile,  and  com- 
forted him  with  promises  of  the  time  when 
he  should  come  back  and  be  their  little  boy 
again,  but  he  did  not  romp  around  as  usual 
when  he  started  to  bed.  He  realized  that 
when  he  came  again  maybe  the  little  crib- 
bed would  be  too  small  to  hold  him,  and 
things  would  never  be  the  same  again. 

Libby  was  quiet  and  inwardly  tearful  for 
another  reason.  They  were  to  leave  the 
very  day  on  the  night  of  which  people  hung 
up  their  stockings.  Would  Santa  Claus 
know  of  their  going  and  follow  them? 
Will'm  would  be  getting  what  he  asked  for, 
a  ride  on  the  Pullman,  but  how  was  she  to 
get  her  gold  ring?  She  lay  awake  quite  a 
long  while,  worrying  about  it,  but  finally  de- 
cided that  she  had  been  so  good,  so  very 
good,  that  Santa  would  find  some  way  to 
keep  his  part  of  the  bargain.     She  had  n't 

60 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

even  fussed  and  rebelled  about  going  back 
to  her  father  as  Maudie  had  advised  her  to 
do,  and  she  had  helped  to  persuade  WhTm 
to  accept  quietly  what  could  n't  be  helped. 
The  bell  over  the  shop  door  went  ting-a- 
ling  many  times  that  evening  to  admit  be- 
lated customers,  and  as  she  grew  drowsier 
and  drowsier  it  began  to  sound  like  those 
other  bells  which  would  go  tinkling  along 
the  Sky  Road  to-morrow  night.  Ah,  that 
Sky  Road !  She  would  n't  worry,  remem- 
bering that  the  Christmas  Angels  came 
along  that  shining  highway  too.  Maybe  her 
heart's  desire  would  be  brought  to  her  by  one 
of  them! 


61 


CHAPTER  IV 

ALTHOUGH  L  stands  equally  for 
Libby  and  Lion,  and  W  for  William 
and  Whale,  it  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  the 
two  small  travelers  thus  labeled  felt  in  any 
degree  the  courage  of  the  king  of  beasts  or 
the  importance  of  the  king  of  fishes.  With 
every  turn  of  the  car  wheels  after  they  left 
the  Junction,  Will'm  seemed  to  grow  smaller 
and  more  bewildered,  and  Libby  more 
frightened  and  forlorn.  In  Will'm's  pic- 
ture of  this  ride  they  had  borne  only  their 
initials.  Now  they  were  faring  forth 
tagged  with  their  full  names  and  their 
father's  address.  Miss  Sally  had  done  that 
"in  case  anything  should  happen." 

If  Miss  Sally  had  not  suggested  that 
something  might  happen,  Libby  might  not 
have  had  her  fears  aroused,  and  if  they  had 
been  allowed  to  travel  all  the  way  in  the 

62 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

toilet-room  which  Miss  Sally  and  Grandma 
Neal  showed  them  while  the  train  waited  its 
usual  ten  minutes  at  the  Junction,  they 
could  have  kept  themselves  too  busy  to  think 
about  the  perils  of  pilgrimage.  Never  be- 
fore had  they  seen  water  spurt  from  shining 
faucets  into  big  white  basins  with  chained- 
up  holes  at  the  bottom.  It  suggested  magic 
to  Libby,  and  she  thought  of  several  games 
they  could  have  made,  if  they  had  not  been 
hurried  back  to  their  seats  in  the  car,  and 
told  that  they  must  wait  until  time  to  eat, 
before  washing  their  hands. 

"I  thought  best  to  tell  them  that,"  said 
Miss  Sally,  as  she  and  Mrs.  Neal  went  slowly 
back  to  the  shop.  "Or  Libby  might  have 
had  most  of  the  skin  scrubbed  off  her  and 
Will'm  before  night.  And  I  know  he  'd 
drink  the  water  cooler  dry  just  for  the 
pleasure  of  turning  it  into  his  new  drinking 
cup  you  gave  him,  if  he  had  n't  been  told 
not  to.  Well,  they  're  off,  and  so  inter- 
ested in  everything  that  I  don't  believe  they 
realized  they  were  starting.     There  was  n't 

63 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

time  for  them  to  think  that  they  were  really 
leaving  you." 

"There  '11  be  time  enough  before  they  get 
there,"  was  the  grim  answer.  "I  should  n't 
wonder  if  they  both  get  to  crying." 

Then  for  fear  that  she  should  start  to 
doing  that  same  thing  herself,  she  left  Miss 
Sally  to  attend  to  the  shop,  and  went  briskly 
to  work,  putting  the  kitchen  to  rights.  She 
had  left  the  breakfast  dishes  until  after  the 
children's  departure,  for  she  had  much  to  do 
for  them,  besides  putting  up  two  lunches. 
They  left  at  ten  o'clock,  and  could  not  reach 
their  journey's  end  before  half  past  eight 
that  night.  So  both  dinner  and  supper  were 
packed  in  the  big  pasteboard  box  which  had 
been  stowed  away  under  the  seat  with  their 
suitcase. 

Miss  Sally  was  right  about  one  thing. 
Neither  child  realized  at  first  that  the  part- 
ing was  final,  until  the  little  shop  was  left 
far  behind.  The  novelty  of  their  surround- 
ings and  their  satisfaction  at  being  really  on 
board  one  of  the  wonderful  cars  which  they 

64 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

had  watched  daily  from  the  sitting-room 
window,  made  them  feel  that  their  best 
"S'posen"  game  had  come  true  at  last. 
But  they  hadn't  gone  five  miles  until  the 
landscape  began  to  look  unfamiliar.  They 
had  never  been  in  this  direction  before,  to- 
ward the  hill  country.  Their  drives  behind 
Uncle  Neal's  old  gray  mare  had  always  been 
the  other  way.  Five  miles  more  and  they 
were  strangers  in  a  strange  land.  Fifteen 
miles,  and  they  were  experiencing  the  bit- 
terness of  "exiles  from  home"  whom  "splen- 
dor dazzles  in  vain."  There  was  no  charm 
left  in  the  luxurious  Pullman  with  its  gor- 
geous red  plush  seats  and  shining  mirrors. 
All  the  people  they  could  see  over  the  backs 
of  those  seats  or  reflected  in  those  mirrors 
were  strangers. 

It  made  them  even  more  lonely  and  aloof 
because  the  people  did  not  seem  to  be 
strangers  to  each  other.  All  up  and  down 
the  car  they  talked  and  joked  as  people  in 
this  free  and  happy  land  always  do  when 
it 's  the  day  before  Christmas  and  they  are 
65 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

going  home,  whether  they  know  each  other 
or  not.  To  make  matters  worse  some  of 
these  strangers  acted  as  if  they  knew  Will'm 
and  Libby,  and  asked  them  questions  or 
snapped  their  fingers  at  them  in  passing  in 
a  friendly  way.  It  frightened  Libby,  who 
had  been  instructed  in  the  ways  of  travel, 
and  she  only  drew  closer  to  Will'm  and  said 
nothing  when  these  strange  faces  smiled  on 
her. 

Presently  Will'm  gave  a  little  muffled  sob 
and  Libby  put  her  arm  around  his  neck.  It 
gave  him  a  sense  of  protection,  but  it  also 
started  the  tears  which  he  had  been  fighting 
back  for  several  minutes,  and  drawing  him- 
self up  into  a  bunch  of  misery  close  beside 
her,  he  cried  softly,  his  face  hidden  against 
her  shoulder.  If  it  had  been  a  big  capable 
shoulder,  such  as  he  was  used  to  going  to 
for  comfort,  the  shower  would  have  been 
over  soon.  But  he  felt  its  limitations.  It 
was  little  and  thin,  only  three  years  older 
and  wiser  than  his  own ;  as  a  support  through 
unknown  dangers  not  much  to  depend  upon, 

66 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

still  it  was  all  he  had  to  cling  to,  and  he 
clung  broken-heartedly  and  with  scalding 
tears. 

As  for  Libby  she  was  realizing  its  limi- 
tations far  more  than  he.  His  sobs  shook 
her  every  time  they  shook  him,  and  she  could 
feel  his  tears,  hot  and  wet  on  her  arm 
through  her  sleeve.  She  started  to  cry  her- 
self, but  fearing  that  if  she  did  he  might  be- 
gin to  roar  so  that  they  would  be  disgraced 
before  everybody  in  the  car,  she  bravely 
winked  back  her  own  tears  and  took  an 
effective  way  to  dry  his. 

Miss  Sally  had  told  them  not  to  wash  be- 
fore it  was  time  to  eat,  but  of  course  Miss 
Sally  had  not  known  that  Will'm  was  going 
to  cry  and  smudge  his  face  all  over  till  it  was 
a  sight.  If  she  could  n't  stop  him  somehow 
he  'd  keep  on  till  he  was  sick,  and  she  'd  been 
told  to  take  care  of  him.  The  little  shoul- 
der humped  itself  in  a  way  that  showed  some 
motherly  instinct  was  teaching  it  how  to  ad- 
just itself  to  its  new  burden  of  responsibil- 
ity, and  she  said  in  a  comforting  way, 

67 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"Come  on,  brother,  let 's  go  and  try  what 
it 's  like  to  wash  in  that  big  white  basin  with 
the  chained-up  hole  in  the  bottom  of  it." 

There  was  a  bowl  apiece,  and  for  the  first 
five  minutes  their  hands  were  white  ducks 
swimming  in  a  pond.  Then  the  faucets 
were  shining  silver  dragons,  spouting  out 
streams  of  water  from  their  mouths  to  drown 
four  little  mermaids,  who  were  not  real  mer- 
maids, but  children  whom  a  wicked  witch 
had  changed  to  such  and  thrown  into  a  pool. 
Then  they  blew  soap-bubbles  through  their 
hands,  till  Will'm's  squeal  of  delight  over 
one  especially  fine  bubble,  which  rested  on 
the  carpet  a  moment,  instead  of  bursting, 
brought  the  porter  to  the  door  to  see  what 
was  the  matter. 

They  were  not  used  to  colored  people. 
He  pushed  aside  the  red  plush  curtain  and 
looked  in,  but  the  bubble  had  vanished,  and 
all  he  saw  was  a  slim  little  girl  of  seven 
snatching  up  a  towel  to  polish  the  red  cheeks 
of  a  chubby  boy  of  four.  When  they  went 
back  to  their  seats  their  finger  tips  were  curi- 

68 


He  pushed  aside  the  red  plush  curtain  and  looked  in 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

ously  wrinkled  from  long  immersion  in  the 
hot  soap-suds,  but  the  ache  was  gone  out  of 
their  throats,  and  Libby  thought  it  might 
be  well  for  them  to  eat  their  dinner  while 
their  hands  were  so  very  clean.  It  was  only 
quarter  past  eleven,  but  it  seemed  to  them 
that  they  had  been  traveling  nearly  a  whole 
day. 

A  chill  of  disappointment  came  to  Will'm 
when  his  food  was  handed  to  him  out  of  a 
pasteboard  box.  He  had  not  thought  to  eat 
it  in  this  primitive  fashion.  He  had  ex- 
pected to  sit  at  one  of  the  little  tables,  but 
Libby  did  n't  know  what  one  had  to  do  to 
gain  the  privilege  of  using  them.  The  trip 
was  not  turning  out  to  be  all  he  had  fondly 
imagined.  Still  the  lunch  in  the  pasteboard 
box  was  not  to  be  despised.  Even  disap- 
pointment could  not  destroy  the  taste  of 
Grandma  Neal's  chicken  sandwiches  and 
blackberry  jam. 

By  the  time  they  had  eaten  all  they 
wanted,  and  tied  up  the  box  and  washed 
their  hands  again   (no  bubbles  and  games 

71 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

this  time  for  fear  of  the  porter)  it  had  begun 
to  snow,  and  they  found  entertainment  in 
watching  the  flakes  that  swirled  against  the 
panes  in  all  sorts  of  beautiful  patterns. 
They  knelt  on  opposite  seats,  each  against 
a  window.  Sometimes  the  snow  seemed  to 
come  in  sheets,  shutting  out  all  view  of  the 
little  hamlets  and  farm  houses  past  which 
they  whizzed,  with  deep  warning  whistles, 
and  sometimes  it  lifted  to  give  them 
glimpses  of  windows  with  holly  wreaths 
hanging  from  scarlet  bows,  and  eager  little 
faces  peering  out  at  the  passing  train — the 
way  theirs  used  to  peer,  years  ago,  it  seemed, 
before  they  started  on  this  endless  journey. 
It  makes  one  sleepy  to  watch  the  snow 
fall  for  a  long  time.  After  awhile  Will'm 
climbed  down  from  the  window  and  cuddled 
up  beside  Libby  again,  with  his  soft  bobbed 
hair  tickling  her  ear,  as  he  rested  against  her. 
He  went  to  sleep  so,  and  she  put  her  arm 
around  his  neck  again  to  keep  him  from 
slipping.  The  card  with  which  Miss  Sally 
had  tagged  him,  slid  along  its  cord  and  stuck 

72 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

up  above  his  collar,  prodding  his  chin. 
Libby  pushed  it  back  out  of  sight  and  felt 
under  her  dress  for  her  own.  They  must  be 
kept  safely,  "in  case  something  should  hap- 
pen." She  wondered  what  Miss  Sally 
meant  by  that.  What  could  happen? 
Their  own  Mr.  Smiley  was  on  the  engine, 
and  the  conductor  had  been  asked  to  keep 
an  eye  on  them. 

Then  her  suddenly  awakened  fear  began 
to  suggest  answers.  Maybe  something 
might  keep  her  father  from  coming  to  meet 
them.  She  and  Will'm  wouldn't  know 
what  to  do  or  where  to  go.  They  'd  be  lost 
in  a  great  city  like  the  little  Match  Girl  was 
on  Christmas  eve,  and  they  'd  freeze  to  death 
on  some  stranger's  doorstep.  There  was  a 
picture  of  the  Match  Girl  thus  frozen,  in  the 
Hans  Andersen  book  which  Susie  Peters 
kept  in  her  desk  at  school.  There  was  a 
cruel  stepmother  picture  in  the  same  book, 
Libby  remembered,  and  recollections  of  that 
turned  her  thoughts  into  still  deeper  chan- 
nels of  foreboding.     What  would  she  be 

73 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

like  ?  What  was  going  to  happen  to  her  and 
Will'm  at  the  end  of  this  journey  if  it  ever 
came  to  an  end?  If  only  they  could  be  back 
at  the  Junction,  safe  and  sound — 

The  tears  began  to  drip  slowly.  She 
wiped  them  away  with  the  back  of  the  hand 
that  was  farthest  away  from  Will'm.  She 
was  miserable  enough  to  die,  but  she  did  n't 
want  him  to  wake  up  and  find  it  out.  A 
lady  who  had  been  watching  her  for  some 
time,  came  and  sat  down  in  the  opposite  seat 
and  asked  her  what  was  the  matter,  and  if 
she  was  crying  because  she  was  homesick, 
and  what  was  her  name  and  how  far  they 
were  going.  But  Libby  never  answered 
a  single  question.  The  tears  just  kept 
dripping  and  her  mouth  working  in  a  pite- 
ous attempt  to  swallow  her  sobs,  and  finally 
the  lady  saw  that  she  was  frightening  her, 
and  only  making  matters  worse  by  trying  to 
comfort  her,  so  she  went  back  to  her  seat. 

When  Will'm  wakened  after  a  while  and 
sat  up,  leaving  Libby's  arm  all  stiff  and 
prickly  from  being  bent  in  one  position  so 

74 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

long,  the  train  had  been  running  for  miles 
through  a  lonely  country  where  nobody 
seemed  to  live.  Just  as  he  rubbed  his  eyes 
wide  awake  they  came  to  a  forest  of  Christ- 
mas trees.  At  least,  they  looked  as  if  all 
they  needed  to  make  them  that,  was  for  some 
one  to  fasten  candles  on  their  snow-laden 
boughs.  Then  the  whistle  blew  the  signal 
that  meant  that  the  train  was  about  to  stop, 
and  Will'm  scrambled  up  on  his  knees  again, 
and  they  both  looked  out  expectantly. 

There  was  no  station  at  this  place  of  stop- 
ping. Only  by  special  order  from  some  high 
official  did  this  train  come  to  a  halt  here, 
so  somebody  of  importance  must  be  coming 
aboard.  All  they  saw  at  first  was  a  snowy 
road  opening  through  the  grove  of  Christ- 
mas trees,  but  standing  in  this  road,  a  few 
rods  from  the  train,  was  a  sleigh  drawn  by 
two  big  black  horses.  They  had  bells  on 
their  bridles  which  went  ting-a-ling  when- 
ever they  shook  their  heads  or  pawed  the 
snow.  The  children  could  not  see  a  trunk 
being  put  into  the  baggage  car  farther  up 

75 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

the  track,  but  they  saw  what  happened  in 
the  delay. 

A  half -grown  boy,  a  suitcase  in  one  hand 
and  a  pile  of  packages  in  his  arms,  dashed 
towards  the  car,  leaving  a  furry  old  gentle- 
man in  the  sleigh  to  hold  the  horses.  The 
old  gentleman's  coat  was  fur,  and  his  cap 
was  fur,  and  so  was  the  great  rug  which  cov- 
ered him.  Under  the  fur  cap  was  thick 
white  hair,  and  all  over  the  bottom  of  his 
face  was  a  bushy  white  beard.  And  his 
cheeks  were  red  and  his  eyes  were  laugh- 
ing, and  if  he  was  n't  Santa  Claus's  own 
self  he  certainly  looked  enough  like  the 
nicest  pictures  of  him  to  be  his  own 
brother. 

On  the  seat  beside  him  was  a  young  girl, 
who,  waiting  only  long  enough  to  plant  a  kiss 
on  one  of  those  rosy  cheeks  above  the  snowy 
beard,  sprang  out  of  the  sleigh  and  ran  after 
the  boy  as  hard  as  she  could  go.  She  was 
not  more  than  sixteen,  but  she  looked  like  a 
full-grown  young  lady  to  Libby,  for  her 
hair  was  tucked  up  under  her  little  fur  cap 

76 


And  ran  after  the  boy  as  hard  as  she  could  go 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

with  its  scarlet  quill,  and  the  long,  fur- 
bordered  red  coat  she  wore,  reached  her 
ankles.  One  hand  was  thrust  through  a 
row  of  holly  wreaths,  and  she  was  carrying 
all  the  bundles  both  arms  could  hold. 

By  the  time  the  boy  had  deposited  his  load 
in  the  section  opposite  the  children's,  and 
dashed  back  down  the  aisle,  there  was  a  call 
of  "All  aboard!"  They  met  at  the  door,  he 
and  the  pretty  girl,  she  laughing  and 
nodding  her  thanks  over  her  pile  of  bundles. 
He  raised  his  hat  and  bolted  past,  but 
stopped  an  instant,  just  before  jumping  off 
the  train,  to  run  back  and  thrust  his  head  in 
the  door  and  call  out  laughingly,  "Good-by, 
Miss  Santa  Claus!" 

Everybody  in  the  car  looked  up  and 
smiled,  and  turned  and  looked  again  as  she 
went  up  the  aisle,  for  a  lovelier  Christmas 
picture  could  not  be  imagined  than  the  one 
she  made  in  her  long  red  coat,  her  arms  full 
of  packages  and  wreaths  of  holly.  The  little 
fur  cap  with  its  scarlet  feather  was  pow- 
dered with  snow,  and  the  frosty  wind  had 

79 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

brought  such  a  glow  to  her  cheeks  and  a 
sparkle  in  her  eyes  that  she  looked  the  living 
embodiment  of  Christmas  cheer.  Her  en- 
trance seemed  to  bring  with  it  the  sense  of 
all  holiday  joy,  just  as  the  cardinal's  first 
note  holds  in  it  the  sweetness  of  a  whole 
spring. 

Will'm  edged  along  the  seat  until  he  was 
close  beside  Libby,  and  the  two  sat  and 
stared  at  her  with  wide-eyed  interest. 

That  boy  had  called  her  3Iiss  Santa 
Claus! 

If  the  sleigh  which  brought  her  had  been 
drawn  by  reindeer,  and  she  had  carried  her 
pack  on  her  back  instead  of  in  her  arms, 
they  could  not  have  been  more  spellbound. 
They  scarcely  breathed  for  a  few  moments. 
The  radiant,  glowing  creature  took  off  the 
long  red  coat  and  gave  it  to  the  porter  to 
hang  up,  then  she  sat  down  and  began  sort- 
ing her  packages  into  three  piles.  It  took 
some  time  to  do  this,  as  she  had  to  refer  con- 
stantly to  a  list  of  names  on  a  long  strip  of 
paper,  and  compare  them  with  the  names  on 

80 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

the  bundles.  While  she  was  doing  this  the 
conductor  came  for  her  ticket  and  she  asked 
several  questions. 

Yes,  he  assured  her,  they  were  due  at 
Eastbrook  in  fifteen  minutes  and  would  stop 
there  long  enough  to  take  water. 

"Then  I  '11  have  plenty  of  time  to  step 
off  with  these  things,"  she  said.  "And  I  'm 
to  leave  some  at  Centreville  and  some  at 
Ridgely." 

When  the  conductor  said  something  about 
helping  Santa  Claus,  she  answered  laugh- 
ingly, "Yes,  Uncle  thought  it  would  be  bet- 
ter for  me  to  bring  these  breakable  things 
instead  of  trusting  them  to  the  chimney 
route."  Then  in  answer  to  a  question  which 
Libby  did  not  hear,  "Oh,  that  will  be  all 
right.  Uncle  telephoned  all  down  the  line 
and  arranged  to  have  some  one  meet  me  at 
each  place." 

When  the  train  stopped  at  Eastbrook,  both 
the  porter  and  conductor  came  to  help  her 
gather  up  her  first  pile  of  parcels,  and  people 
in  the  car  stood  up  and  craned  their  necks 

81 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

to  see  what  she  did  with  them.  Libby  and 
Will'm  could  see.  They  were  on  the  side 
next  to  the  station.  She  gave  them  to  sev- 
eral people  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  for 
her.  Almost  immediately  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  young  men  and  girls, 
all  shaking  hands  with  her  and  talking  at 
once.  From  the  remarks  which  floated  in 
through  the  open  vestibule,  it  seemed  that 
they  all  must  have  been  at  some  party  with 
her  the  night  before.  A  chorus  of  good- 
byes and  Merry  Christmases  followed  her 
into  the  car  when  she  had  to  leave  them  and 
hurry  aboard.  This  time  she  came  in  empty 
handed,  and  this  time  people  looked  up  and 
smiled  openly  into  her  face,  and  she  smiled 
back  as  if  they  were  all  friends,  sharing  their 
good  times  together. 

At  Centreville  she  darted  out  with  the 
second  lot.  Farther  down  a  number  of 
people  were  leaving  the  day  coaches,  but  no 
one  was  getting  off  the  Pullman.  She  did 
not  leave  the  steps,  but  leaned  over  and 
called  to  an  old  colored-man  who  stood  with 

82 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

a  market  basket  on  his  arm.  "This  way, 
Mose.     Quick!" 

Then  Will'm  and  Libby  heard  her  say: 
"Tell  'Old  Miss'  that  Uncle  Norse  sent  this 
holly.  He  wanted  her  to  have  it  because  it 
grew  on  his  own  place  and  is  the  finest  in 
the  country.  Don't  knock  the  berries  off, 
and  do  be  careful  of  this  biggest  bundle.  I 
wouldn't  have  it  broken  for  anything. 
And — oh,  yes,  Mose"  (this  in  a  lower  tone), 
"this  is  for  you." 

What  it  was  that  passed  from  the  little 
white  hand  into  the  worn  brown  one  of  the 
old  servitor  was  not  discovered  by  the  in- 
terested audience  inside  the  car,  but  they 
heard  a  chuckle  so  full  of  pleasure  that  some 
of  them  echoed  it  unconsciously. 

"Lawd  bless  you,  liT  Miss,  you  sho'  is 
the  flowah  of  the  Santa  Claus  fambly!" 

When  she  came  in  this  time,  a  motherly 
old  lady  near  the  door  stopped  her,  and  smil- 
ing up  at  her  through  friendly  spectacles, 
asked  if  she  were  going  home  for  Christmas. 

"Yes!"    was    the    enthusiastic    answer. 

83 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"And  you  know  what  that  means  to  a  Fresh- 
man— her  first  homecoming  after  her  first 
term  away  at  school.  I  should  have  been 
there  four  days  ago.  Our  vacation  began 
last  Friday,  but  I  stopped  over  for  a  house- 
party  at  my  cousin's.  I  was  wild  to  get 
home,  but  I  could  n't  miss  this  visit,  for  she  's 
my  dearest  chum  as  well  as  my  cousin,  and 
last  night  was  her  birthday.  Maybe  you  no- 
ticed all  those  people  who  met  me  at  East- 
brook.     They  were  at  the  party." 

"That  was  nice,"  answered  the  little  old 
lady,  bobbing  her  head.  "Very  nice,  my 
dear.  And  now  you  '11  be  getting  home  at 
the  most  beautiful  time  in  all  the  year." 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  was  the  happy  answer. 
"Christmas  eve  to  me  always  means  going 
around  with  father  to  take  presents,  and  I 
would  n't  miss  it  for  anything  in  the  world. 
I  'm  glad  there  's  enough  snow  this  year  for 
us  to  use  the  sleigh.  We  had  to  take  the 
auto  last  year,  and  it  was  n't  half  as  much 
fun." 

Libby  and  Will'm  scarcely  moved  after 

84 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

that,  all  the  way  to  Ridgely.  Nor  did  they 
take  their  eyes  off  her.  Mile  after  mile  they 
rode,  barely  batting  an  eyelash,  staring  at  her 
with  unabated  interest.  At  Ridgley  she 
handed  off  all  the  rest  of  the  packages  and 
all  of  the  holly  wreaths  but  two.  These  she 
hung  up  out  of  the  way  over  her  windows, 
then  taking  out  a  magazine,  settled  herself 
comfortably  in  the  end  of  the  seat  to  read. 
On  her  last  trip  up  the  aisle  she  had  no- 
ticed the  wistful,  unsmiling  faces  of  her  little 
neighbors  across  the  way,  and  she  wondered 
why  it  was  that  the  only  children  in  the  coach 
should  be  the  only  ones  who  seemed  to  have 
no  share  in  the  general  joyousness.  Some- 
thing was  wrong,  she  felt  sure,  and  while  she 
was  cutting  the  leaves  of  the  magazine,  she 
stole  several  glances  in  their  direction.  The 
little  girl  had  an  anxious  pucker  of  the  brows 
sadly  out  of  place  in  a  face  that  had  not  yet 
outgrown  its  baby  innocence  of  expression. 
She  looked  so  little  and  lorn  and  troubled 
about  something,  that  Miss  Santa  Claus 
made  up  her  mind  to  comfort  her  as  soon  as 

85 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

she  had  an  opportunity.  She  knew  better 
than  to  ask  for  her  confidence  as  the  well- 
meaning  lady  had  done  earlier  in  the 
day. 

When  she  began  to  read,  Will'm  drew  a 
long  breath  and  stretched  himself.  There 
was  no  use  watching  now  when  it  was  evi- 
dent that  she  was  n't  going  to  do  anything 
for  awhile,  and  sitting  still  so  long  had  made 
him  fidgety.  He  squirmed  off  the  seat,  and 
up  into  the  next  one,  unintentionally  wiping 
his  feet  on  Libby's  dress  as  he  did  so.  It 
brought  a  sharp  reproof  from  the  over- 
wrought Libby,  and  he  answered  back  in 
the  same  spirit. 

Neither  was  conscious  that  their  voices 
could  be  heard  across  the  aisle  above  the 
noise  of  the  train.  The  little  fur  cap  with 
the  scarlet  feather  bent  over  the  magazine 
without  the  slightest  change  in  posture,  but 
there  was  no  more  turning  of  pages.  The 
piping,  childish  voices  were  revealing  a  far 
more  interesting  story  than  the  printed  one 
the  girl  was  scanning.     She  heard  her  own 

86 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

name  mentioned.  They  were  disputing 
about  her. 

Too  restless  to  sit  still,  and  with  no  way 
in  which  to  give  vent  to  his  all-consuming 
energy,  Will'm  was  ripe  for  a  squabble.  It 
came  very  soon,  and  out  of  many  allusions 
to  past  and  present,  and  dire  threats  as  to 
what  might  happen  to  him  at  the  end  of  the 
journey  if  he  did  n't  mend  his  ways,  the 
interested  listener  gathered  the  principal 
facts  in  their  history.  The  fuss  ended  in  a 
shower  of  tears  on  Will'm's  part,  and  the 
consequent  smudging  of  his  face  with  his 
grimy  little  hands  which  wiped  them  away, 
so  that  he  had  to  be  escorted  once  more  be- 
hind the  curtain  to  the  shining  faucets  and 
the  basin  with  the  chained-up  hole  at  the  bot- 
tom. 

When  they  came  back  Miss  Santa  Claus 
had  put  away  her  magazine  and  taken  out 
some  fancy  work.  All  she  seemed  to  be  do- 
ing was  winding  some  red  yarn  over  a  pen- 
cil, around  and  around  and  around.  But 
presently  she  stopped  and  tied  two  ends  with 

87 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

a  jerk,  and  went  snip,  snip  with  her  scissors, 
and  there  in  her  fingers  was  a  soft  fuzzy 
ball.  When  she  had  snipped  some  more, 
and  trimmed  it  all  over,  smooth  and  even, 
it  looked  like  a  little  red  cherry.  In  almost 
no  time  she  had  two  wool  cherries  lying  in 
her  lap.  She  was  just  beginning  the  third 
when  the  big  ball  of  yarn  slipped  out  of 
her  fingers,  and  rolled  across  the  aisle  right 
under  Libby's  feet.  She  sprang  to  pick  it 
up  and  take  it  back. 

"Thank  you,  dear,"  was  all  that  Miss 
Santa  Claus  said,  but  such  a  smile  went  with 
it,  that  Libby,  smoothing  her  skirts  over  her 
knees  as  she  primly  took  her  seat  again,  felt 
happier  than  she  had  since  leaving  the  Junc- 
tion. It  was  n't  two  minutes  till  the  ball 
slipped  and  rolled  away  again.  This  time 
Will'm  picked  it  up,  and  she  thanked  him  in 
the  same  way.  But  very  soon  when  both 
scissors  and  ball  spilled  out  of  her  lap  and 
Libby  politely  brought  her  one  and  Will'm 
the  other,  she  did  not  take  them. 

"I   wonder,"   she   said,   "if  you  children 

88 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

could  n't  climb  up  here  on  the  seat  with  me 
and  hold  this  old  Jack  and  Jill  of  a  ball  and 
scissors.  Every  time  one  falls  down  and 
almost  breaks  its  crown,  the  other  goes  tum- 
bling after.  I  'm  in  such  a  hurry  to  get 
through.  Could  n't  you  stay  and  help  me  a 
few  minutes?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Libby,  primly  and 
timidly,  sitting  down  on  the  edge  of  the  op- 
posite seat  with  the  ball  in  her  hands.  Miss 
Santa  Claus  put  an  arm  around  Will'm  and 
drew  him  up  on  the  seat  beside  her. 
"There,"  she  said.  "You  hold  the  scissors, 
Will'm,  and  when  I  'm  through  winding  the 
ball  that  Libby  holds,  I  '11  ask  you  to  cut  the 
yarn  for  me.  Did  you  ever  see  such  scissors, 
Libby?  They  're  made  in  the  shape  of  a 
witch.  See!  She  sits  upon  the  handles, 
and  when  the  blades  are  closed  they  make 
the  peak  of  her  long  pointed  cap.  They 
came  from  the  old  witch  town  of  Salem." 

Libby  darted  a  half-frightened  look  at 
her.  She  had  called  them  both  by  name! 
Had  she  been  listening  down  the  chimney, 

89 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

too?  And  those  witch  scissors!  They 
looked  as  if  they  might  be  a  charm  to  open 
all  sorts  of  secrets.  Maybe  she  knew  some 
charm  to  keep  stepmothers  from  being  cruel. 
Oh,  if  she  only  dared  to  ask!  Of  course 
Libby  knew  that  one  must  n't  "pick  up" 
with  strangers  and  tell  them  things.  Miss 
Sally  had  warned  her  against  that.  But 
this  was  different.  Miss  Santa  Claus  was 
more  than  just  a  person. 

If  Pan  were  to  come  piping  out  of  the 
woods,  who,  with  any  music  in  him,  would 
not  respond  with  all  his  heart  to  the  magic 
call?  If  Titania  were  to  beckon  with  her 
gracious  wand,  who  would  not  be  drawn 
into  her  charmed  circle  gladly?  So  it  was 
these  two  little  wayfarers  heard  the  call  and 
swayed  to  the  summons  of  one  who  not  only 
shed  the  influence,  but  shared  the  name  of 
the  wonderful  Spirit  of  Yule. 


00 


CHAPTER  V 

WITH  Libby  to  hold  the  ball  and  un- 
wind the  yarn  as  fast  as  it  was 
needed,  and  Will'm  to  cut  it  with  the  witch 
scissors  every  time  Miss  Santa  Claus  said 
"snip!"  it  was  not  long  before  half  a  dozen 
little  wool  cherries  lay  in  her  lap.  Then 
they  helped  twist  the  yarn  into  cords  on 
which  to  tie  the  balls,  and  watched  with 
eyes  that  never  lost  a  movement  of  her  deft 
fingers,  while  she  fastened  the  cords  to  the 
front  of  a  red  crocheted  jacket,  which  she 
took  from  her  suitcase. 

"There!"  she  exclaimed,  holding  it  up  for 
them  to  admire.  "That  is  to  go  in  the  stock- 
ing of  a  poor  little  fellow  no  larger  than 
Will'm.  He  's  lame  and  has  to  stay  in  bed 
all  the  time,  and  he  asked  Santa  Claus  to 
bring  him  something  soft  and  warm  to  put 

91 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

on  when  he  is  propped  up  in  bed  to  look  at 
his  toys." 

Out  of  a  dry  throat  Libby  at  last  brought 
up  the  question  she  had  been  trying  to  find 
courage  for. 

"Is  Santa  Claus  your  father?" 

"No,  but  father  and  Uncle  Norse  are  so 
much  like  him  that  people  often  get  them 
all  mixed  up,  just  as  they  do  twins,  and  since 
Uncle  Santa  has  grown  so  busy,  he  gets 
father  to  attend  to  a  great  deal  of  his  busi- 
ness. In  fact  our  whole  family  has  to  help. 
He  could  n't  possibly  get  around  to  every- 
body as  he  used  to  when  the  cities  were 
smaller  and  fewer.  Lately  he  has  been 
leaving  more  and  more  of  his  work  to  us. 
He  's  even  taken  to  adopting  people  into 
his  family  so  that  they  can  help  him.  In  al- 
most every  city  in  the  world  now,  he  has  an 
adopted  brother  or  sister  or  relative  of  some 
sort,  and  sometimes  children  not  much  big- 
ger than  you,  ask  to  be  counted  as  members 
of  his  family.     It 's  so  much  fun  to  help." 

Libby  pondered  over  this  news  a  moment 

92 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

before  she  asked  another  question.  "Then 
does  he  come  to  see  them  and  tell  them  what 
to  do?" 

"No,  indeed!  Nobody  ever  sees  him. 
He  just  sends  messages,  something  like 
wireless  telegrams.     You  know  what  they 


are 


Libby  shook  her  head.  She  had  never 
heard  of  them.  Miss  Santa  Claus  ex- 
plained. "And  his  messages  pop  into  your 
head  just  that  way,"  she  added.  "I  was  as 
busy  as  I  could  be  one  day,  studying  my  Al- 
gebra lesson,  when  all  of  a  sudden,  pop  came 
the  thought  into  my  head  that  little  Jamie 
Fitch  wanted  a  warm  red  jacket  to  wear 
when  he  sat  up  in  bed,  and  that  Uncle  Santa 
wanted  me  to  make  it.  I  went  down  town 
that  very  afternoon  and  bought  the  wool, 
and  I  knew  that  I  was  not  mistaken  by  the 
way  I  felt  afterward,  so  glad  and  warm  and 
Christmasy.  That 's  why  all  his  family  love 
to  help  him.  He  gives  them  such  a  happy 
feeling  while  they  are  doing  it." 

It  was  WiU'm's  turn  now  for  a  question. 

93 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

He  asked  it  abruptly  with  a  complete  change 
of  base. 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  stepmother?" 

"Yes,  indeed!  And  Cousin  Rosalie  has 
one.  She  's  Uncle  Norse's  wife.  I  've  just 
been  visiting  them." 

"Has  she  got  a  tush?" 

"A  what?'3  was  the  astonished  answer. 

"He  means  tusk,"  explained  Libby. 
"All  the  cruel  ones  have  'm,  Susie  Peters 
says." 

"Sticking  out  this  way,  like  a  pig's," 
Will'm  added  eagerly,  at  the  same  time  pull- 
ing his  lip  down  at  one  side  to  show  a  little 
white  tooth  in  the  place  where  the  dreadful 
fang  would  have  grown,  had  he  been  the 
cruel  creature  in  question. 

"Mercy,  no!"  was  the  horrified  exclama- 
tion. "That  kind  live  only  in  fairy  tales 
along  with  ogres  and  giants.  Didn't  you 
know  that?" 

Will'm  shook  his  head.  "Me  an'  Libby 
was  afraid  ours  would  be  that  way,  and  if 
she  is  we  're  going  to  do  something  to  her. 

94 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

We  're  going  to  shut  her  up  in  a  nawful 
dark  cellar,  or — or  something." 

Miss  Santa  looked  grave.  Here  was  a 
dreadful  misunderstanding.  Somebody  had 
poisoned  these  baby  minds  with  suspicions 
and  doubts  which  might  embitter  their  whole 
lives.  If  she  had  been  only  an  ordinary  fel- 
low passenger  she  might  not  have  felt  it  her 
duty  to  set  them  straight.  But  no  descend- 
ant of  the  family  of  which  she  was  a  mem- 
ber, could  come  face  to  face  with  such  a 
wrong,  without  the  impulse  to  make  it  right. 
It  was  an  impulse  straight  from  the  Sky 
Road.  In  the  carol  service  in  the  chapel, 
the  night  before  she  left  school,  the  dean  had 
spoken  so  beautifully  of  the  way  they  might 
all  follow  the  Star,  this  Christmastide,  with 
their  gifts  of  frankincense  and  myrrh,  even 
if  they  had  no  gold.  Here  was  her  oppor- 
tunity, she  thought,  if  she  were  only  wise 
enough  to  say  the  right  thing! 

Before  she  could  think  of  a  way  to  begin, 
a  waiter  came  through  the  car,  sounding 
the  first  call  for  dinner.     Time  was  flying. 

95 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

She  'd  have  to  hurry,  and  make  the  most  of 
it  before  the  journey  came  to  an  end. 
Putting  the  little  crocheted  jacket  back  into 
her  suitcase  and  snapping  the  clasps  she 
stood  up. 

"Come  on,"  she  said,  holding  out  a  hand 
to  each.  "We  '11  go  into  the  dining-car  and 
get  something  to  eat." 

Libby  thought  of  the  generous  supper  in 
the  pasteboard  box  which  they  had  been  told 
to  eat  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  but  she  allowed 
herself  to  be  led  down  the  aisle  without  a 
word.  A  higher  power  was  in  authority 
now.  She  was  as  one  drawn  into  a  fairy 
ring. 

Now  at  last,  the  ride  on  the  Pullman 
blossomed  into  all  that  Will'm  had  pictured 
it  to  be.  There  was  the  gleam  of  glass,  the 
shine  of  silver,  the  glow  of  shaded  candles, 
and  himself  at  one  of  the  little  tables,  while 
the  train  went  flying  through  the  night  like 
a  mighty  winged  dragon,  breathing  smoke 
and  fire  as  it  flew. 

Miss  Santa  Claus  studied  the  printed  card 

96 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

beside  her  plate  a  moment,  and  then  looked 
into  her  pocketbook  before  she  wrote  the  or- 
der. She  smiled  a  little  while  she  was  writ- 
ing it.  She  wanted  to  make  this  meal  one 
that  they  would  always  remember,  and  was 
sure  that  children  who  lived  at  such  a  place 
as  the  Junction  had  never  before  eaten 
strawberries  on  Christmas  eve;  a  snow- 
covered  Christmas  eve  at  that.  She  had 
been  afraid  for  just  a  moment,  when  she 
first  peeped  into  her  purse,  that  there  was  n't 
enough  left  for  her  to  get  them. 

No  one  had  anything  to  say  while  the 
order  was  being  filled.  Will'm  and  Libby 
were  too  busy  looking  at  the  people  and 
things  around  them,  and  their  companion 
was  too  busy  thinking  about  something  she 
wanted  to  tell  them  after  awhile.  Presently 
the  steward  passed  their  table,  and  Will'm 
gave  a  little  start  of  recognition,  but  he  said 
nothing.  It  was  the  same  man  whose  locket 
he  had  found,  and  who  had  promised  to  tell 
Santa  Claus  about  him.  Evidently  he  had 
told,  for  here  was  Will'm  in  full  enjoyment 

97 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

of  what  he  had  longed  for.  The  man  did 
not  look  at  Will'm,  however.  He  was  too 
busy  attending  to  the  wants  of  impatient 
grown  people  to  notice  a  quiet  little  boy  who 
sat  next  the  wall  and  made  no  demands. 

Then  the  waiter  came,  balancing  an  enor- 
mous tray  on  one  hand,  high  above  his  head, 
and  the  children  watched  him  with  the 
breathless  fascination  with  which  they  would 
have  watched  a  juggler  play  his  tricks.  It 
was  a  simple  supper,  for  Miss  Santa  Claus 
was  still  young  enough  to  remember  what 
had  been  served  to  her  in  her  nursery  days, 
but  it  was  crowned  by  a  dish  of  enormous 
strawberries,  such  as  Will'm  had  seen  in  the 
refrigerator  of  the  car  kitchen,  but  nowhere 
else.  They  never  grew  that  royal  size  at  the 
Junction. 

But  what  made  the  meal  more  than  one  of 
mortal  enjoyment,  and  transformed  the 
earthly  food  into  ambrosia  of  the  gods,  was 
that  while  they  sifted  the  powdered  sugar 
over  their  berries,  Miss  Santa  Claus  began  to 
tell  them  a  story.     It  was  about  the  Princess 

98 


It  was  about  the  Princess  Ina 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

Ina,  who  had  six  brothers  whom  a  wicked 
witch  changed  into  swans.  It  was  a  very  in- 
teresting story,  the  way  she  told  it,  and  more 
than  once  both  Libby  and  Will'm  paused 
with  their  spoons  half  way  from  berries  to 
mouth,  the  better  to  listen.  It  was  quite 
sad,  too,  for  only  once  in  twenty-four  hours, 
and  then  just  for  a  few  moments,  could  the 
princes  shed  their  swan-skins  and  be  real 
brothers  again.  At  these  times  they  would 
fly  back  to  their  sister  Ina,  and  with  tears  in 
their  eyes,  beg  her  to  help  them  break  the 
cruel  charm. 

At  last  she  found  a  way,  but  it  would  be  a 
hard  way  for  her.  She  must  go  alone,  and  in 
the  fearsome  murk  of  the  gloaming,  to  a  spot 
where  wild  asters  grow.  The  other  name 
for  them  is  star-flower.  If  she  could  pick 
enough  of  these  star-flowers  to  weave  into  a 
mantle  for  each  brother,  which  would  cover 
him  from  wing-tip  to  wing-tip,  then  they 
would  be  free  from  the  spell  as  soon  as  it 
was  thrown  over  them.  But  the  flowers 
must  be  gathered  in  silence.  A  single  word 
101 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

spoken  aloud  would  undo  all  her  work. 
And  it  would  be  a  hard  task,  for  the  star- 
flowers  grew  only  among  briars  and  weeds, 
and  her  hands  would  be  scratched  with 
thorns  and  stung  by  nettles.  Yet  no  matter 
how  badly  she  was  torn  or  blistered  she  must 
not  break  her  silence  by  one  word  of  com- 
plaint. 

Now  the  way  Miss  Santa  told  that  story 
made  you  feel  that  it  was  you  and  not  the 
Princess  Ina  who  was  groping  through  the 
fearsome  gloaming  after  the  magic  flowers. 
Once  Libby  felt  the  scratch  of  the  thorns  so 
plainly  that  she  said  "oo-oh"  in  a  whisper, 
and  looked  down  at  her  own  hands,  half  ex- 
pecting to  see  blood  on  them.  And  Will'm 
forgot  to  eat  entirely,  when  it  came  to  the 
time  of  weaving  the  last  mantle,  and  there 
was  n't  quite  enough  material  to  piece  it 
out  to  the  last  wing-tip.  Still  there  was 
enough  to  change  the  last  swan  back  into  a 
real  brother  again,  even  if  one  arm  never 
was  quite  as  it  should  be;  and  when  all  six 
brothers    stood    around    their    dear    sister, 

102 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

weeping  tears  of  joy  at  their  deliverance, 
Will'm's  face  shone  as  if  he  had  just  been 
delivered  from  the  same  fate  himself. 

"Now,"  said  Miss  Santa  Claus,  when  the 
waiter  had  brought  the  bill  and  gone  back 
for  some  change,  "you  must  never,  never 
forget  that  story  as  long  as  you  live.  I  've 
told  it  to  you  because  it 's  a  true  charm  that 
can  be  used  for  many  things.  Aunt  Ruth 
told  it  to  me.  She  used  it  long  ago,  when  she 
wanted  to  change  Rosalie  into  a  real  daugh- 
ter, and  I  used  it  once  when  I  wanted  to 
change  a  girl  who  was  just  a  pretend  friend, 
into  a  real  one.  And  you  are  to  use  it  to 
change  your  stepmother  into  a  real  mother! 
I  '11  tell  you  how  when  we  go  back  to  our 
seats." 

On  the  way  back  they  stopped  in  the  vesti- 
bule between  the  cars  for  a  breath  of  fresh 
air,  and  to  look  out  on  the  snow-covered 
country,  lying  white  in  the  moonlight.  The 
flakes  were  no  longer  falling. 

"I  see  the  Sky  Road!"  sang  out  Will'm 
in  a  happy  sort  of  chant,  pointing  up  at  the 
103 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

glittering  milky  way.  "Pretty  soon  the 
drate  big  reindeer  '11  come  running  down 
that  road!" 

"And  the  Christmas  Angels,"  added 
Libby  reverently,  in  a  half  whisper. 

"And  there 's  where  the  star-flowers 
grow,"  Miss  Santa  Claus  chimed  in,  as  if  she 
were  singing.  "Once  there  was  a  dear  poet 
who  called  the  stars  'the  forget-me-nots  of 
the  angels.'  I  believe  I  '11  tell  you  about 
them  right  now,  while  we  're  out  here  where 
we  can  look  up  at  them.  Oh,  I  wonder  if  I 
can  make  it  plain  enough  for  you  to  under- 
stand me!" 

With  an  arm  around  each  child's  shoulder 
to  steady  them  while  they  stood  there,  rock- 
ing and  swaying  with  the  motion  of  the 
lurching  train,  she  began : 

"It 's  this  way.  When  you  go  home, 
probably  there  '11  be  lots  of  things  that  you 
won't  like,  and  that  you  won't  want  to  do. 
Things  that  will  seem  as  disagreeable  as 
Ina's  task  was  to  her.  They  won't  scratch 
and  blister  your  hands,  but  they  '11  make  you 

104 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

feel  all  scratchy  and  hot  and  cross.  But  if 
you  go  ahead  as  Ina  did,  without  opening 
your  lips  to  complain,  it  will  be  like  picking 
a  little  white  star-flower  whose  name  is  obe- 
dience. The  more  you  pick  of  them  the 
more  you  will  have  to  weave  into  your 
mantle.  And  sometimes  you  will  see  a 
chance  to  do  something  to  help  her  or  to 
please  her,  without  waiting  to  he  asked. 
You  may  have  to  stop  playing  to  do  it,  and 
give  up  your  own  pleasure.  That  will 
scratch  your  feelings  some,  but  doing  it  will 
be  like  picking  a  big  golden  star-flower 
whose  name  is  kindness.  And  if  you  keep 
on  doing  this,  day  after  day  as  Ina  did,  with 
never  a  word  of  complaint,  the  time  will 
come  when  you  have  woven  a  hig,  beautiful 
mantle  whose  name  is  love.  And  when  it 
is  big  enough  to  reach  from  'wing-tip  to 
wing-tip'  you  '11  find  that  she  has  grown  to 
be  just  like  a  real  mother.  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  Libby  solemnly. 
Will'm  did  not  answer,  but  the  far-off  look 

105 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

in  his  eyes  showed  that  he  was  pondering 
over  what  she  had  just  told  him. 

"Now  we  must  run  along  in,"  she  said 
briskly.  "It 's  cold  out  here."  Inside,  she 
looked  at  her  watch.  It  was  after  seven. 
Only  a  little  more  than  an  hour,  and  the 
children  would  be  at  the  end  of  their  jour- 
ney. Not  much  longer  than  that  and  she 
would  reach  hers.  It  had  been  a  tiresome 
day  for  both  Libby  and  Will'm.  Although 
their  eyes  shone  with  the  excitement  of  it, 
the  Sandman  was  not  far  away.  It  was 
their  regular  bedtime,  and  they  were  yawn- 
ing. At  a  word  from  Miss  Santa  Claus  the 
porter  brought  pillows  and  blankets.  She 
made  up  a  bed  for  each  on  opposite  seats 
and  tucked  them  snugly  in. 

"Now,"  she  said,  bending  over  them, 
"You  '11  have  time  for  a  nice  long  nap  be- 
fore your  father  comes  to  take  you  off. 
But  before  you  go  to  sleep,  I  want  to  tell 
you  one  more  thing  that  you  must  remem- 
ber forever.  You  must  always  get  the 
right    hind    of    start.     It 's    like    hooking 

106 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

up  a  dress,  you  know.  If  you  start 
crooked  it  will  keep  on  being  crooked 
all  the  way  down  to  the  bottom,  unless  you 
undo  it  and  begin  over.  So  if  I  were  you, 
I  'd  begin  to  work  that  star-flower  charm 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  Remember 
you  can  work  it  on  anybody  if  you  try  hard 
enough.  And  remember  that  it  is  truet 
just  as  true  as  it  is  that  you  're  each  going 
to  have  a  Christmas  stocking!" 

She  stooped  over  each  in  turn  and  kissed 
their  eyelids  down  with  a  soft  touch  of  her 
smiling  lips  that  made  Libby  thrill  for  days 
afterward,  whenever  she  thought  of  it.  It 
seemed  as  if  some  royal  spell  had  been  laid 
upon  them  with  those  kisses;  some  spell  to 
close  their  eyes  to  nettles  and  briars,  and 
help  them  to  see  only  the  star-flowers. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  both  Libby  and 
Will'm  were  sound  asleep,  and  the  porter 
was  carrying  the  holly  wreaths  and  the  red 
coat  and  the  suitcase  back  to  the  state-room 
which  had  been  vacated  at  the  last  stopping 
place.    In  two  minutes  more  Miss  Santa 

107 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Claus  had  emptied  her  suitcase  out  on  the 
seat  beside  her,  and  was  scrabbling  over  the 
contents  in  wild  haste.  For  no  sooner  had 
she  mentioned  stockings  to  the  children  than 
pop  had  come  one  of  those  messages  straight 
from  the  Sky  Road,  which  could  not  be  dis- 
regarded. Knowing  that  she  would  be  on 
the  train  with  the  two  children  from  the 
Junction,  Santa  Claus  was  leaving  it  to  her 
to  provide  stockings  for  them. 

It  worried  her  at  first,  for  she  could  n't 
see  her  way  clear  to  doing  it  on  such  short 
notice  and  in  such  limited  quarters.  But 
she  had  never  failed  him  since  he  had  first 
allowed  her  the  pleasure  of  helping  him,  and 
she  didn't  intend  to  now.  Her  mind  had 
to  work  as  fast  as  her  fingers.  There 
was  n't  a  single  thing  among  her  belongings 
that  she  could  make  stockings  of,  unless — 
she  sighed  as  she  picked  it  up  and  shook  out 
the  folds  of  the  prettiest  kimono  she  had 
ever  owned.  It  was  the  softest  possible 
shade  of  gray  with  white  cherry  blossoms 
scattered  over  it,  and  it  was  bordered  in 

108 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

wide  bands  of  satin  the  exact  color  of  a  shin- 
ing ripe  red  cherry.  There  was  nothing  else 
for  it,  the  lovely  kimono  must  be  shorn  of 
its  glory,  at  least  on  one  side.  Maybe  she 
could  split  what  was  left  on  the  other  side, 
and  reborder  it  all  with  narrower  bands. 
But  even  if  she  couldn't,  she  must  take  it. 
The  train  was  leaping  on  through  the  night. 
There  was  no  time  to  spare. 

Snip!  Snip!  went  the  witch  scissors,  and 
the  long  strip  of  cherry  satin  was  loose  in  her 
hands.  Twenty  minutes  later  two  bright 
red  stockings  lay  on  the  seat  in  front  of  her, 
bordered  with  silver  tinsel.  She  had  run 
the  seams  hastily  with  white  thread,  all  she 
had  with  her,  but  the  stitches  did  not  show, 
being  on  the  inside.  Even  if  they  had 
pulled  themselves  into  view  in  places,  all  de- 
fects in  sewing  were  hidden  by  the  tinsel 
with  which  the  stockings  were  bordered. 
She  had  unwound  it  from  a  wand  which  she 
was  carrying  home  with  several  other  favors 
from  the  german  of  the  night  before.  The 
wand  was  so  long  that  it  went  into  her  suit- 

109 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

case  only  by  laying  it  in  diagonally.  It 
had  been  wrapped  around  and  around  with 
yards  of  tinsel,  tipped  with  a  silver-gauze 
butterfly. 

While  she  stitched  she  tried  to  think  of 
something  to  put  into  the  stockings.  Her 
only  hope  was  in  the  trainboy,  and  she  sent 
the  porter  to  bring  him.  But  when  he  came 
he  had  little  to  offer.  As  it  was  Christmas 
eve  everybody  had  wanted  his  wares  and 
he  was  nearly  sold  out.  Not  a  nut,  not  an 
apple,  not  even  a  package  of  chewing  gum 
could  he  produce.  But  he  did  have  some- 
where among  his  things,  he  said,  two  little 
toy  lanterns,  with  red  glass  sides,  filled  with 
small  mixed  candies,  and  he  had  several  or- 
anges left.  Earlier  in  the  day  he  had  had 
small  glass  pistols  filled  with  candy.  He 
departed  to  get  the  stock  still  on  hand. 

When  the  lanterns  proved  to  be  minia- 
ture conductor's  lanterns  Miss  Santa  Claus 
could  have  clapped  her  hands  with  satisfac- 
tion. Children  who  played  train  so  much 
would  be  delighted  with  them.  She  thrust 
no 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

one  into  each  stocking  with  an  orange  on 
top.  They  just  filled  the  legs,  but  there 
was  a  dismal  limpness  of  foot  which  sad- 
ly betrayed  its  emptiness.  With  another 
glance  at  her  watch  Miss  Santa  Claus  hur- 
ried back  to  the  dining-car.  The  tables  were 
nearly  empty,  and  she  found  the  steward 
by  the  door.  She  showed  him  the  stockings 
and  implored  him  to  think  of  something  to 
help  fill  them.  Had  n't  he  nuts,  raisins, 
anything,  even  little  cakes,  that  she  could 
get  in  a  hurry? 

He  suggested  salted  almonds  and  after- 
dinner  mints,  and  sent  a  waiter  flying  down 
the  aisle  to  get  some.  While  she  waited  she 
explained  that  they  were  for  two  children 
who  had  come  by  themselves  all  the  way  from 
the  Junction.  It  was  little  Will'm's  first 
ride  on  a  Pullman.  The  words  "Junction" 
and  "Will'm"  seemed  to  recall  something  to 
the  steward. 

"I  wonder  if  it  could  be  the  same  little 
chap  who  found  my  locket,"  he  said.  "I 
took  his  name  intending  to  send  him  some- 
111 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

thing  Christmas,  but  was  so  busy  I  never 
thought  of  it  again." 

The  waiter  was  back  with  the  nuts  and 
mints.  Miss  Santa  Claus  paid  for  them, 
and  hurriedly  returned  to  the  state-room. 
She  had  to  search  through  her  things  again 
to  find  some  tissue  paper  to  wrap  the  salted 
almonds  in.  They  'd  spoil  the  red  satin  if 
put  in  without  covering.  While  she  was 
doing  it  the  steward  came  to  the  door. 

"I  beg  pardon,  Miss,"  he  said.  "But 
would  you  mind  showing  me  the  little  fel- 
low? If  it  is  the  same  one,  I  'd  like  to  leave 
him  a  small  trick  I  Ve  got  here." 

She  pointed  down  the  aisle  to  the  seat 
where  Will'm  lay  sound  asleep,  one  dimpled 
fist  cuddled  under  his  soft  chin.  After  a 
moment's  smiling  survey  the  man  came 
back. 

"That 's  the  kid  all  right,"  he  told  her. 
"And  he  seemed  to  be  so  powerful  fond  of 
anything  that  has  to  do  with  a  train,  I 
thought  it  would  please  him  to  find  this  in 
his  stocking." 

112 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

He  handed  her  a  small-sized  conductor's 
punch.  "I  use  it  to  keep  tally  on  the  order 
cards,"  he  explained,  "but  I  won't  need  it 
on  the  rest  of  this  run." 

"How  lovely!"  exclaimed  Miss  Santa 
Claus.  "I  know  he  '11  be  delighted,  and 
I  'm  much  obliged  to  you  myself,  for  help- 
ing me  make  his  stocking  fuller  and  nicer." 

She  opened  the  magazine  after  he  had 
gone,  and  just  to  try  the  punch  closed  it 
down  on  one  of  the  leaves.  Clip,  it  went, 
and  the  next  instant  she  uttered  a  soft  little 
cry  of  pleasure.  The  clean-cut  hole  that 
the  punch  had  made  in  the  margin  was 
star  shaped,  and  on  her  lap,  where  it  had 
fallen  from  the  punch,  was  a  tiny  white 
paper  star. 

"Oh,  it  will  help  him  to  remember  the 
charm!"  she  whispered,  her  eyes  shining 
with  the  happy  thought.  "If  I  only  had 
some  kind  of  a  reminder  for  Libby,  too!" 

Then,  all  of  a  sudden  came  another 
message,  straight  from  the  Sky  Road !  She 
could  give  Libby  the  little  gold  ring  which 

113 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

had  fallen  to  her  lot  the  night  before  in  her 
slice  of  the  birthday  cake.  There  had  been 
a  ring,  a  thimble  and  a  dime  in  the  cake, 
and  she  had  drawn  the  ring.  It  was  so 
small,  just  a  child's  size,  that  she  could  n't 
wear  it,  but  she  was  taking  it  home  to  put 
in  her  memory  book.  It  had  been  such  a 
beautiful  evening  that  she  wanted  to  mark 
it  with  that  little  golden  circlet,  although  of 
course  it  was  n't  possible  for  her  to  forget 
such  a  lovely  time,  even  in  centuries.  And 
Libby  might  forget  about  the  star-flowers 
unless  she  had  a  daily  reminder. 

She  held  it  in  her  hand  a  moment,  hesitat- 
ing, till  the  message  came  again,  "Send  it!" 
Then  there  was  no  longer  any  indecision. 
When  she  shut  it  in  its  little  box,  and  stuffed 
the  box  down  past  the  lantern  and  the  or- 
ange and  the  nuts  and  the  peppermints  into 
the  very  toe,  such  a  warm,  glad  Christmasy 
feeling  sent  its  glow  through  her,  that  she 
knew  past  all  doubting  she  had  interpreted 
the  Sky  Road  message  aright. 

Many  of  the  passengers  had  left  the  car 

114 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

by  this  time,  and  the  greater  number  of 
those  who  remained  were  nodding  uncom- 
fortably in  their  seats.  But  those  who  hap- 
pened to  be  awake  and  alert  saw  a  picture 
they  never  forgot,  when  a  lovely  young  girl, 
her  face  alight  with  the  joy  of  Christmas 
love  and  giving,  stole  down  the  aisle  and  si- 
lently fastened  something  on  the  back  of  the 
seat  above  each  little  sleeper.  It  was  a 
stocking,  red  and  shining  as  a  cherry,  and 
silver-bordered  with  glistening  fairy  fringe.. 
When  they  looked  again  she  had  disap- 
peared, but  the  stockings  still  hung  there, 
tokens  which  were  to  prove  to  those  same 
little  sleepers  on  their  awakening  that  the 
star-flower  charm  is  true.  For  love  indeed 
works  miracles,  and  every  message  from  the 
Sky  Road  is  but  an  echo  of  the  one  the 
Christmas  angels  sang  when  first  they  came 
along  that  shining  highway,  the  heralds  of 
good-will  and  peace  to  all  the  earth. 


115 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHRISTMAS  morning  when  Will'm 
awoke,  he  was  as  bewildered  as  if  he 
had  opened  his  eyes  in  a  new  world.  He 
was  in  a  little  white  bed,  such  as  he  had 
never  seen  before,  and  the  blankets  were 
blue,  with  a  border  of  white  bunnies  around 
each  one.  Between  him  and  the  rest  of  the 
room  was  a  folding  screen,  like  a  giant  pic- 
ture-book cover,  showing  everybody  in 
Mother  Goose's  whole  family.  He  lay 
staring  at  it  awhile,  and  when  he  recognized 
Tommy  Tucker  and  Simple  Simon  and 
Mother  Hubbard's  dog,  he  did  n't  feel  quite 
so  lost  and  strange  as  he  did  at  first. 

Always  at  the  Junction  he  had  to  lie  still 
until  Uncle  Neal  made  the  fire  and  the  room 
was  warm;  but  here  it  was  already  warm, 
and  he  could  hear  steam  hissing  somewhere. 
It  seemed  to  be  coming  from  the  gilt  pipes 

116 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

under  the  window.  Wondering  what  was 
on  the  other  side  of  the  screen,  he  slid  out 
from  under  the  bunny  blankets  and  peeped 
cautiously  around  the  wall  of  Mother 
Goose  pictures.  It  was  Libby  on  the  other 
side  in  another  little  white  bed  just  like  his. 
With  one  spring  he  pounced  up  on  top  of 
it,  and  squirmed  in  beside  her. 

The  first  moment  of  Libby's  awakening 
was  as  bewildering  as  Will'm's  had  been. 
Then  she  began  to  have  a  confused  recollec- 
tion of  the  night  before.  She  remembered 
being  lifted  from  the  pillow  on  the  car  seat, 
and  hugged  and  kissed,  and  having  her  limp, 
sleepy  arms  thrust  into  elusive  coat  sleeves. 
Somebody  held  her  hand  and  hurried  her 
down  the  aisle  after  her  father,  who  was 
carrying  Will'm,  because  he  was  so  sound 
asleep  that  they  could  n't  even  put  his  over- 
coat on  him.  It  was  just  wrapped  around 
him.  Then  she  remembered  jolting  across 
the  city  in  an  omnibus,  with  her  head  on  a 
muff  in  a  lady's  lap,  and  of  leaning  against 
that  same  lady  afterwards  while  her  clothes 

117 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

were  being  unbuttoned,  and  her  eyelids  kept 
falling  shut.  She  had  never  been  so  sleepy 
in  her  whole  life,  that  she  could  remem- 
ber. 

Suddenly  she  sat  straight  up  in  bed  and 
stared  at  something  hanging  on  the  post 
of  the  low  footboard;  a  Christmas  stocking 
all  red  and  silver,  and  for  her !  Even  from 
where  she  was  she  could  read  the  name  that 
Miss  Santa  Claus  had  printed  in  big  let- 
ters on  the  scrap  of  paper  pinned  to  it: 
"LIBBY." 

Only  those  who  have  thrilled  with  that 
same  speechless  rapture  can  know  a  tithe 
of  the  bliss  which  filled  Libby's  soul,  as  she 
seized  it,  her  first  Christmas  stocking,  and 
began  to  explore  it  with  fingers  trembling 
in  their  eagerness.  When  down  in  the  very 
toe  she  found  the  "little  shiny  gold  ring  like 
Maudie  Peters's,"  all  she  had  breath  for  was 
a  long  indrawn  "Aw-aw-aw!"  of  ecstasy. 

"Oh,  Will'm!"  she  exclaimed,  when  she 
could  find  speech,  "are  n't  you  glad  we 
bleeved?" 

118 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

"But  I  are  n't  got  any  stocking,"  he  said 
gloomily,  eyeing  her  enviously  while  she 
slipped  the  ring  on  her  finger  and  waved 
her  hand  around  to  admire  the  effect. 

"But  you  got  all  you  asked  for;  the  ride 
on  the  cars,"  she  reminded  him  cheerfully. 
"Did  you  look  on  your  post  to  see  if  there 
was  anything?"  No,  he  had  not  looked,  and 
at  the  suggestion  he  sprang  out  of  Libby's 
bed  like  a  furry  white  kitten  in  his  little 
teazledown  nightdrawers  made  with  feet  to 
them,  and  knelt  on  top  of  his  own  bunny 
blankets. 

"Oh,  Libby!  There  is  one.  There  is!" 
he  cried  excitedly.  "It  slipped  around  to 
the  back  of  the  post  where  I  could  n't  see  it 
before.  There  's  an  orange  and  a  lantern 
just  like  yours,  and  what's  this?  Oh, 
look!" 

The  awesome  joy  of  his  voice  made  Libby 
join  him  on  the  other  side  of  the  Mother 
Goose  screen,  and  she  snatched  the  little 
punch  from  him  almost  as  eagerly  as  he  had 
snatched  it  from  the  stocking,  to  try  it  on 

119 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

the  slip  of  paper  which  bore  the  name 
"WILL'M,"  pinned  across  the  toe.  They 
had  watched  the  conductor  using  his  the 
previous  day,  and  had  each  wished  for  one 
to  use  in  playing  their  favorite  game.  Clip, 
it  went,  and  their  heads  bumped  together  in 
their  eagerness  to  see  the  result.  There  in 
the  paper  was  a  clear-cut  hole  in  the  shape 
of  a  tiny  star,  and  on  the  blanket  where  it 
had  fallen  from  the  hole,  was  the  star  itself. 
The  punch  which  the  conductor  had  used 
made  round  holes.  This  was  a  thousand 
times  nicer. 

Up  till  this  moment,  in  the  bewilderment 
of  finding  themselves  in  their  new  surround- 
ings, the  children  had  forgotten  all  about 
Miss  Santa  Claus  and  her  story  of  Ina  and 
the  swans.  But  now  Libby  looked  up,  as 
Will'm  snatched  back  the  punch  and  began 
clipping  holes  in  the  paper  as  fast  as  he  could 
clip.  The  shower  of  stars  falling  on  the 
blanket  made  her  think  of  the  star-flower 
charm,  which  they  had  been  advised  to  begin 
using  first  thing  in  the  morning.  Immedi- 
120 


The  shower  of  stars  falling  on  the  blanket  made  her  think 
of  the  star-flower 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

ately  Libby  retired  to  her  side  of  the  screen 
and  began  to  dress. 

"Don't  you  know,"  she  reminded  Will'm, 
"she  said  that  we  must  be  particular  to  start 
right.  It 's  like  hooking  up  a  dress.  If 
you  start  crooked,  everything  will  keep  on 
being  crooked  all  the  way  down.  I  'm  go- 
ing to  get  started  right,  for  I  've  found  it 's 
just  as  easy  to  be  good  as  it  is  to  be  bad  when 
you  once  get  used  to  trying." 

Will'm  was  n't  paying  attention.  He 
had  punched  the  slip  of  paper  so  full  of  holes 
it  would  n't  hold  another  one,  and  now  he 
tried  the  punch  on  the  edge  of  one  of  the 
soft  blankets,  just  to  see  if  it  would  make 
a  blue  star  drop  out.  But  the  punch  did  n't 
cut  blankets  as  evenly  as  it  did  paper. 
Only  a  snip  of  wool  came  loose  and  stuck  in 
the  punch,  and  the  hole  almost  closed  up 
afterward  when  he  picked  at  it  a  little.  He 
did  n't  show  it  to  Libby. 

That  is  the  last  he  thought  of  the  charm 
that  day,  for  their  father  put  his  head  in  at 
the  door  to  call  "Merry  Christmas,"  and  say 

123 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

that  he  'd  be  in  in  a  few  minutes  to  help  him 
into  his  clothes,  and  that  their  mother  would 
come  too  to  tie  Libby's  hair-ribbons  and 
hurry  things  along,  because  they  must  hustle 
down  to  breakfast  to  see  the  grand  surprise 
she  had  for  them. 

Then  Will'm  hurried  so  fast  that  he  was 
in  his  clothes  by  the  time  his  father  came  in ; 
he  had  even  washed  his  own  face  and  hands 
after  a  fashion,  and  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done  for  him  but  to  brush  his  hair,  and  while 
his  father  was  doing  that,  he  talked  and 
joked  in  such  an  entertaining  way  that 
Will'm  did  not  feel  at  all  strange  with  him 
as  he  had  expected  to  do.  But  he  felt 
strange  when  presently  his  father  exclaimed, 
"Here  Js  mother,"  and  somebody  put  her 
arms  around  him  and  kissed  him  and  wished 
him  a  Merry  Christmas,  and  then  did  the 
same  to  Libby. 

She  looked  so  smiling  and  home-like  that 
she  seemed  more  like  Miss  Sally  Watts  or 
somebody  they  had  known  at  the  Junc- 
tion than  a  stepmother.     If  Will'm  had  n't 

124 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

known  that  she  was  one,  and  that  he  was 
expected  to  love  her,  he  would  have  liked  her 
right  away,  almost  as  much  as  he  did  Miss 
Sally.  But  he  felt  shy  and  uncomfortable, 
and  he  did  n't  know  what  to  call  her.  The 
name  "mama"  did  not  belong  to  her.  It 
never  could.  That  belonged  to  the  beauti- 
ful picture  hanging  on  the  wall  where  it 
could  be  seen  from  both  little  beds,  last  thing 
at  night  and  first  thing  in  the  morning. 
They  had  had  a  smaller  picture  just  like  it 
at  the  Junction,  but  this  was  more  beautiful 
because  it  showed  the  soft  pink  in  her  cheeks 
and  the  blue  in  her  smiling  eyes,  and  the 
other  was  only  a  photograph.  Will'm 
knew  as  well  as  Libby  did  that  the  reason 
their  father  had  kept  talking  about  "your 
mother"  all  the  time  he  was  brushing  his 
hair,  was  because  he  wanted  them  to  call  her 
that.  But  he  could  n't!  He  did  n't  know 
her  well  enough.  He  felt  that  it  would 
choke  him  to  call  her  anything  but  She  or 
Her. 

While   his   father   carried   him   down  to 

125 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

breakfast  pick-a-back,  She  led  Libby  by  the 
hand,  and  told  about  finding  the  stockings 
pinned  to  the  car  seats,  and  about  a  beauti- 
ful girl  who  suddenly  appeared  beside  her 
in  the  aisle,  and  asked  her  to  be  sure  to  hang 
them  where  the  children  could  find  them 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  Santa  Claus 
had  asked  her  to  be  sure  that  they  got  them. 
She  had  on  a  long  red  coat  and  a  little  fur 
cap  with  a  red  feather  in  it.  There  was  n't 
any  time  to  ask  her  questions,  for  while  they 
were  trying  to  waken  the  children  and  hurry 
them  ofF  the  train  which  stopped  such  a  few 
minutes,  she  just  smiled  and  vanished. 

Libby  and  Will'm  looked  at  each  other 
and  said  in  the  same  breath,  "Miss  Santa 
Claus!"  Libby  would  have  gone  on  to  ex- 
plain who  she  was,  but  they  had  reached  the 
dining-room  door,  and  there  in  the  center  of 
the  breakfast  table  stood  a  Christmas  tree, 
tipped  with  shining  tapers  and  every  branch 
a-bloom  with  the  wonderful  fruitage  of 
Yuletide.  It  was  the  first  one  they  had  ever 
seen,  all  lighted  and  glistening,  so  it  is  no 

126 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

wonder  that  its  glories  drove  everything 
else  out  of  their  thoughts.  There  was  a  tri- 
cycle for  Will'm  waiting  beside  his  chair, 
with  a  card  on  it  that  said  "With  love  from 
father  and  mother."  And  in  Libby's  chair 
with  the  same  kind  of  a  card  was  a  doll,  with 
not  only  real  hair,  but  real  eyelashes,  and  a 
trunk  full  of  the  most  beautiful  clothes  that 
She  had  made. 

As  it  was  a  holiday  their  father  could  give 
his  entire  time  to  making  them  forget  that 
they  were  miles  and  miles  from  Grandma 
Neal  and  the  Junction.  So  what  with  the 
snow  fort  in  the  yard,  and  a  big  Christmas 
dinner  and  a  long  sleighride  afterward,  they 
were  whirled  from  one  exciting  thing  to  an- 
other, till  nightfall.  Even  then  there  was 
no  time  to  grow  lonely,  for  their  father  sat 
in  the  firelight,  a  child  on  each  knee,  holding 
them  close  while  She  played  on  the  piano, 
soft  sweet  lullabies  so  alluring  that  the 
Sandman  himself  had  to  steal  out  to  listen. 

It  was  different  next  morning  when  their 
father  had  to  go  back  to  the  office,  but  the 

127 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"hooking  up"  started  out  all  right  for  Libby. 
She  remembered  it  while  she  was  washing 
her  hands,  and  saw  the  gleam  of  the  little 
new  ring  on  her  finger.  So  her  first  shy 
question  when  they  were  left  alone  with 
Her,  was:  "Don't  you  want  me  to  do 
something?" 

The  desire  to  please  was  so  evident  that 
the  answer  was  accompanied  by  a  quick  hug 
which  held  her  close  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,  dear,  if  you  can  just  play  with  your 
little  brother  and  keep  him  contented  awhile, 
it  will  be  more  help  than  anything." 

Libby  skipped  promptly  away  to  do  her 
bidding.  She  knew  that  Will'm  would 
want  to  go  thundering  up  and  down  the  back 
hall  in  his  tricycle,  playing  train  with  the 
lantern  and  the  punch.  She  would  far 
rather  devote  her  time  to  the  new  doll,  for 
she  had  n't  yet  tried  on  half  its  wardrobe. 
But  Miss  Santa  Claus's  words  came  back 
to  her  very  clearly:  "It  will  be  like  pick- 
ing a  little  white  flower  whose  name  is 
obedience!"    Feeling  that  she  was  follow- 

128 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

ing  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Princess  Ina,  she 
threw  herself  into  the  game  of  Railroad 
Train  until  Will'm  found  it  more  thrilling 
than  it  had  ever  been  before. 

Later  in  the  morning  they  trundled  the 
tricycle  out  into  the  back  yard,  to  ride  up 
and  down  the  long  brick  pavement  which 
led  to  the  alley  gate.  The  snow  had  been 
swept  off  and  the  bricks  were  dry  and  clean. 
They  took  turns  riding.  The  tricycle  was 
the  engine,  and  the  one  whose  turn  it  was 
to  go  on  foot  ran  along  behind,  personat- 
ing the  train. 

They  had  been  at  this  sport  some  time, 
when  they  suddenly  became  aware  that 
some  one  was  watching  them.  A  small  boy 
with  curious  bulging  eyes,  and  a  mouth 
open  like  a  round  O  was  peeking  in  at  them, 
between  the  pickets  of  the  alley  gate.  He 
was  a  boy  two  years  bigger  and  older  than 
Will'm,  but  he  was  unkempt  looking,  and 
his  stockings  wrinkled  down  over  his  shoe- 
tops,  and  there  was  a  ring  of  molasses  or 
jam  or  something  around  his  mouth. 

129 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

The  discovery  dampened  their  zest  in  the 
game  somewhat.  It  made  Will'm,  who  had 
never  played  with  any  one  but  Libby,  a 
trifle  self-conscious.  He  stopped  letting 
off  steam  with  his  lips,  and  wheeling 
around,  trundled  back  to  the  house  in 
silence.  Libby,  too,  was  disconcerted. 
Her  car-wheels  failed  her.  She  trailed  back 
in  his  wake  a  little  girl,  instead  of  a  noisy 
train.  Yet  the  discovery  did  not  stop  the 
game  altogether.  At  the  kitchen  steps  they 
turned  as  they  had  been  doing  all  along  and 
bravely  started  towards  the  alley  again. 
This  time  the  gate  opened  and  the  dirty 
little  boy  came  in.  It  was  Benjy,  known 
to  all  the  neighborhood,  if  not  to  them,  for 
he  wandered  around  it  like  a  stray  cat. 
Wherever  he  saw  a  door  ajar  he  entered, 
and  stayed  until  something  attracted  his  at- 
tention elsewhere.  He  went  home  only 
when  he  was  sent  for.  If  nothing  of  inter- 
est pulled  him  the  other  way  he  went  un- 
resistingly, if  not  he  was  dragged.  Wher- 
ever he  happened  to  be  at  mealtime,  he 

130 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

stayed,  whether  he  was  invited  or  not. 
There  was  something  almost  spooky  in 
Benjy's  sudden  appearances,  and  in  his  all- 
devouring  curiosity.  It  was  n't  the  childish 
normal  kind  that  asks  questions.  It  was 
the  gaping,  uncanny  kind  that  silently  peers 
over  into  your  open  pocketbook,  or  stands 
looking  into  your  mouth  while  you  talk. 

Older  people  disliked  him  because  he 
would  leave  his  play  to  stand  in  front  of 
them  and  gape  and  listen,  and  he  was  al- 
ways grubby  and  unbuttoned.  Although 
he  was  six  years  old  it  was  no  concern  of  his 
that  his  stockings  were  always  turning  down 
over  his  shoe  tops.  If  the  public  preferred 
to  see  them  smooth  then  the  public  must  at- 
tend to  his  gartersnaps. 

The  tricycle  having  reached  the  end  of 
the  walk,  came  to  a  halt.  Benjy  opened  the 
gate,  walked  in  and  took  possession.  It 
was  from  no  sense  of  fear  that  Will'm 
climbed  down  and  let  Benjy  assume  control. 
It  was  simply  that  a  new  force  had  come  into 
his  life,  a  strangely  fascinating  one.     He 

131 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

had  never  had  anything  to  do  with  boys  be- 
fore, and  this  one,  bigger  than  himself, 
dominated  him  from  the  start.  He  found  it 
much  more  thrilling  to  follow  his  lead  than 
his  sister's.  After  a  few  futile  attempts  to 
keep  on  with  the  game,  Libby  fell  out  of  it. 
Not  that  Benjy  objected  to  her.  He  sim- 
ply ignored  her,  and  Will'm  took  his  cue 
from  him.  So  she  sat  on  the  kitchen  steps 
and  watched  them,  till  she  felt  cold  and 
went  into  the  house. 

The  coming  of  Benjy  left  Libby  free  to 
turn  to  her  own  affairs,  but  somehow  she 
could  not  do  it  with  quite  the  same  zest,  feel- 
ing that  she  had  been  shouldered  out  of 
Will'm's  game  by  an  interloper.  She  thor- 
oughly disapproved  of  Benjy  from  the  first 
glance.  He  was  a  trial  to  her  orderly  little 
soul,  and  his  lack  of  neatness  added  to 
her  resentment  at  being  ignored.  When 
Will'm  was  called  in  out  of  the  cold  later 
in  the  afternoon,  Benjy  followed  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Several  times  she  fell  upon  him 
and  yanked  him  into  shape  with  masterful 

132 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

touches  which  left  him  as  neatly  geared  to- 
gether as  Will'm  always  was.  But  by  the 
time  he  had  squirmed  out  of  her  hands  his 
gartersnaps  were  out  of  a  job  again,  and 
his  waist  and  little  trousers  were  parting 
company  at  the  belt. 

All  that  day  he  stayed  on,  till  he  was 
dragged  home  at  dusk  like  a  lump  of  dough. 
He  did  n't  resist  when  the  maid  came  for 
him.  He  simply  relaxed  and  left  all  the 
exertion  of  getting  home  entirely  to  her. 
When  the  door  closed  behind  him  Libby 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  as  if  she  had 
been  seven  and  twenty  instead  of  just  seven. 
He  had  n't  done  anything,  but  his  wild  sug- 
gestions had  kept  Will'm  on  the  verge  of  do- 
ing things  all  day.  He  was  in  the  act  of 
prying  the  seat  off  his  new  tricycle  by 
Benjy's  orders  when  she  went  in  and 
stopped  him,  and  she  went  into  the  nursery 
just  in  time  to  keep  him  from  doing  some 
unheard-of  thing  to  the  radiator,  so  that  it 
would  blow  off  steam  like  a  real  engine. 

Will'm  had  always  been  such  a  sensible 

133 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

child,  with  a  conscience  of  his  own  about  in- 
juring things,  that  she  could  n't  understand 
why  all  of  a  sudden  he  should  be  possessed 
to  do  a  hundred  things  that  he  ought  not  to 
do.  It  was  a  relief  to  find  that  the  spell 
lifted  with  Benjy's  removal.  He  came  and 
cuddled  down  beside  her  in  the  big  arm- 
chair before  the  fire,  waiting  for  supper 
time  to  come,  and  somehow  she  felt  that  she 
had  her  own  little  brother  again.  He  had 
seemed  like  a  stranger  all  day.  But  her 
exile  from  his  company  had  not  been  with- 
out its  compensations. 

"I  can  play  'Three  Blind  Mice!  See  how 
they  run!'  "  she  told  him  as  they  rocked  back 
and  forth.  "She  taught  me.  She  came  in 
while  I  was  touching  the  keys  just  as  easy, 
so  they  hardly  made  a  sound,  and  asked  me 
did  I  want  to  learn  to  play  on  them.  And 
I  said  oh,  yes,  more  than  anything  in  the 
world.  And  she  said  that  was  exactly  the 
way  she  used  to  feel  when  she  was  a  little 
girl  like  me,  living  at  the  Junction.  She 
wore  her  hair  in  little  braids  like  mine  and 

134 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

tiptoed  around  like  a  little  mouse  when  she 
was  in  strange  places,  and  sometimes  when 
she  looked  at  me  she  could  almost  believe  it 
was  her  own  little  self  come  back  again. 
Then  she  showed  me  how  to  make  my  fin- 
gers run  down  the  keys  just  like  the  three 
mice  did.  She  's  going  to  teach  me  more 
every  day  till  I  can  play  it  for  father  some 
night.  But  you  must  cross  your  heart  and 
body  not  to  tell  'cause  I  want  to  s'prise 
him." 

Will'm  crossed  as  directed,  and  stood  by 
much  impressed  when  Libby  climbed  up  on 
the  piano-stool  and  played  the  seven  notes 
which  she  had  learned,  over  and  over: 
"Three  blind  mice!     See  how  they  run!" 

"To-morrow  she  's  going  to  show  me  as 
far  as  'They  all  took  after  the  farmer's 
wife.'     I  wish  it  was  to-morrow  right  now !" 

She  gave  an  eager  little  wiggle  that  sent 
her  slipping  off  the  stool.  "Oh,  I  like  it 
here,  now,"  she  exclaimed,  reseating  herself 
and  beginning  an  untiring  reiteration  of  the 
seven  notes. 

135 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

"So  do  I — some,"  answered  Will'm.  "I 
like  it  'count  of  Benjy.  But  I  don't  like 
to  hear  so  much  blind  mice.  You  make  'm 
run  too  long."  Libby  felt  vaguely  ag- 
grieved by  his  criticism,  but  her  pleasure  in 
her  own  performance  was  something  too 
great  to  forego. 

Next  morning  while  they  were  dressing, 
the  door  opened  silently  and  Benjy  ap- 
peared on  Will'm's  side  of  the  screen.  He 
came  so  noiselessly  that  it  gave  Libby  a 
start  when  later  on  she  was  made  aware  of 
his  presence.  His  host,  equally  wordless, 
was  struggling  with  a  little  union-suit  of 
woolen  underwear.  He  was  wordless  be- 
cause he  was  so  busily  occupied  trying  to 
get  into  it,  and  the  unexpected  entrance 
made  him  still  more  anxious  to  cover  him- 
self. Grandma  Neal  had  always  helped 
him  with  it,  but  he  had  valiantly  fought  off 
all  offers  of  help  since  coming  to  his  new 
home.  This  morning,  slightly  bothered 
by  the  presence  of  his  self-invited  guest,  he 
got  it  so  twisted  that  no  matter  how  he 

136 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

turned  it,  one  leg  and  one  sleeve  were  al- 
ways wrong  side  out. 

Benjy,  watching  with  his  curious  bulging 
eyes,  and  his  mouth  making  a  round  open  O, 
was  of  no  more  help  than  one  of  those 
heathen  idols,  who  having  eyes,  see  not,  and 
having  hands,  handle  not.  But  he  finally 
made  a  suggestion.  He  was  eager  to  begin 
playing. 

"Aw,  leave  'm  go.  Don't  try  to  put  'em 
on." 

It  was  this  unexpected  remark  in  a  voice, 
not  her  brother's,  which  made  Libby  drop 
her  button-hook,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
screen. 

"But  I  '11  be  cold,"  objected  Will'm,  star- 
ing at  the  strip  of  wintry  landscape  which 
showed  through  his  window. 

"Naw,  you  won't,"  was  the  confident 
answer.  "Your  outside  clothes  are 
thick." 

"But  I  never  have  left  them  off,"  said 
Will'm,  ready  to  cry  over  the  exasperating 
tangle  of  legs  and  sleeves. 

137 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

Libby,  all  dressed  but  buttoning  her  shoes, 
heard  Will'm  being  thus  tempted  of  the  Evil 
One,  and  peeping  around  the  giant  picture- 
book  cover,  discovered  him  standing  in 
nothing  but  his  tiny  knee  breeches,  prepar- 
ing to  slip  his  Russian  blouse  of  blue  serge 
over  his  bare  back. 

"Why,  Will'm  Branfleld!  Stop  this 
minute  and  put  on  your  underclothes!"  she 
demanded.  Then  growing  desperate  as  her 
repeated  commands  were  not  obeyed,  she 
called  threateningly,  "If  you  don't  put  them 
on  this  minute  I  '11  tell  on  you." 

"Huh !  Who  '11  you  tell?"  jeered  Benjy. 
"Mr.  Bramfeel  's  down  cellar,  talkin'  to  the 
furnace  man,  and  Will'm  does  n't  have  to 
mind  Her.     She  ain't  his  mother." 

The  question  gave  Libby  pause.  Not 
that  it  left  her  undecided  about  telling,  but 
it  reminded  her  that  she  had  no  title  to  give 
"Her,"  when  she  called  for  help.  It  was 
like  trying  to  open  a  door  that  had  no  knob, 
to  call  into  space  without  having  any  handle 
of  a  name  to  take  hold  of  first.     There  was 

138 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

no  time  to  loose.  Will'm  was  buttoning 
himself  up  in  his  blouse. 

Libby  hurried  to  the  top  of  the  stairs  and 
called:  "Sa-ay!"  There  was  no  answer, 
so  she  called  again,  "Sa-ay!"  Then  at  the 
top  of  her  voice,  "Say!  Will'm's  leaving 
off  his  flannels.  Please  come  and  make  him 
behave!" 

The  next  instant  her  heart  began  to  beat 
violently,  and  she  waited  in  terror  to  see 
what  was  going  to  happen.  She  wished 
passionately  that  she  had  not  told.  Sup- 
pose she  had  brought  down  some  cruel  pun- 
ishment on  her  little  brother !  Her  first  im- 
pulse had  been  to  array  herself  on  the  side  of 
law  and  order,  but  her  second  was  to  spread 
her  wings  like  an  old  hen  in  defense  of  its 
only  chick. 

When  She  came  into  the  room  Will'm  was 
backed  up  defiantly  against  the  wall.  She 
looked  so  pleasant  and  smiling  as  she  bent 
over  him  in  her  pretty  morning  gown,  that 
it  took  the  courage  out  of  him.  If  she  had 
been  cross  he  could  have  fought  her.     But 

139 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

she  just  stood  there  looking  so  big  and  capa- 
ble and  calm,  taking  it  for  granted  that  he 
would  put  on  his  flannels  as  soon  as  she 
had  untwisted  the  funny  knot  they  were  in, 
that  there  was  n't  anything  to  do  but  obey. 
Will'm  was  a  reasonable  child,  and  if  they 
had  been  alone  that  would  have  been  the  last 
of  the  matter.  But  he  resented  being  made 
to  mind  before  his  company,  and  he  resented 
her  saying  to  him,  "Better  run  on  home, 
Benjy." 

She  might  as  well  have  told  an  oyster  to 
run  on  home.  He  gave  no  sign  of  having 
heard  her,  and  when  the  children  went  down 
to  breakfast,  he  calmly  went  with  them. 
He  had  had  his,  and  would  not  sit  down,  but 
stood  leaning  against  the  table,  pushing  the 
cloth  awry,  watching  every  mouthful  every- 
body swallowed,  until  Libby  saw  her  father 
make  a  queer  face.  He  said  something  to 
Her  in  long  syllabled  words,  so  long  that 
only  grown  people  could  understand.  And 
she  laughed  and  answered  that  even  dis- 
agreeable things  might  prove  to  be  blessings 

140 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

in  disguise,  if  they  helped  others  to  take 
root  in  strange  places. 

Benjy  was  dragged  home  again  before 
lunch,  but  returned  immediately  after,  still 
chewing,  and  bearing  traces  of  it  on  both 
face  and  fingers.  In  the  interval  of  his  ab- 
sence, "Mis'  Bramfeel"  as  he  called  her,  had 
occasion  to  go  up-stairs.  On  a  certain  step 
of  the  stairway  when  her  eyes  were  on  a  level 
with  the  nursery  floor,  she  saw  through  its 
open  door,  something  white,  stuffed  away 
back  under  the  bureau  on  Will'm's  side  of 
the  room.  Wondering  what  it  could  be,  she 
went  in  and  poked  it  out  with  a  cane  which 
the  boys  had  been  playing  with.  To  her 
amazement  the  bundle  proved  to  be  Will'm's 
little  white  union-suit.  Again  Libby 
waited  with  beating  heart  and  clasped  hands 
while  he  was  called  in  and  buttoned  firmly 
into  it.  She  forbade  him  sternly  not  to  take 
it  off  again  till  bedtime,  but  nothing  else 
happened,  and  Libby  breathed  freely  once 
more.  Grandma  Neal  would  have  spanked 
him  she  thought.     Will'm  needed  spanking 

141 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

now  and  then  if  one  could  only  be  sure  that 
it  would  n't  be  done  too  hard. 

Mr.  Branfleld  did  not  come  home  till  late 
that  night.  He  was  called  out  of  town  on 
business.  As  soon  as  the  telephone  message 
came,  She  gave  the  cook  a  holiday,  and  told 
Libby  she  was  going  to  get  supper  herself. 
Libby  could  choose  whatever  she  and  Will'm 
liked  best,  and  they  'd  surprise  him  with  it 
after  Benjy  had  been  dragged  home.  So 
Libby  chose,  and  was  left  to  keep  house 
while  She  hurried  down  to  the  only  place  in 
town  where  she  was  sure  of  getting  what 
Libby  had  chosen,  and  carried  it  home  her- 
self, and  cooked  it  just  as  they  used  to  cook 
them  at  the  Junction  when  she  was  a  little 
girl  and  lived  there  years  ago.  And  Libby 
had  the  best  time  helping.  As  she  followed 
Her  about  the  kitchen  she  thought  of  the 
things  she  intended  to  tell  Maudie  Peters 
the  first  time  they  went  back  to  the  Junction 
to  visit. 

She  and  Libby  talked  a  great  deal  about 
that  prospective  visit,  for  She  had  made 

142 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

playhouses  under  the  same  old  thorn-tree  by 
the  brook  where  Libby's  last  one  was.  And 
she  had  coasted  down  Clifford  hill  many  a 
time,  and  she  had  even  sat  in  the  third  seat 
from  the  front  in  the  row  next  to  the  west- 
ern wall,  one  whole  term  of  school.  That 
was  Libby's  own  seat.  No  wonder  she 
knew  just  how  Libby  felt  about  everything 
when  she  could  remember  so  many  experi- 
ences that  were  like  this  little  girl's  who  fol- 
lowed her  back  and  forth  from  table  to  stove, 
bringing  up  all  her  own  childhood  before 
her. 

Will'm  sniffed  expectantly  as  he  climbed 
up  to  the  supper  table.  A  delicious  and  a 
beloved  odor  had  reached  him.  He  smiled 
like  a  full  moon  when  his  plate  was  put  in 
front  of  him,  and  his  spoon  went  hurriedly 
up  to  his  mouth.  "Oh,  rabbit  dravy!"  he 
sighed  ecstatically. 

She  had  gone  back  to  the  kitchen  for 
something  else,  and  Libby  took  occasion  to 
say  reprovingly,  "Yes,  and  She  went  a  long, 
long  way  to  get  that  rabbit,  just  because  I 

143 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

told  her  you  love  'm  so.  And  She  cooked  it 
herself  and  burned  her  hand  a-doing  it.  She 
was  gathering  a  star-flower  for  you,  even  if 
you  have  been  bad  and  forgot  what  Miss 
Santa  Claus  told  you!" 

When  She  came  back  with  the  rest  of  the 
supper,  Will'm  stole  a  glance  at  her  hands. 
Sure  enough,  one  was  bound  up  in  a  hand- 
kerchief. It  had  not  been  blistered  by 
nettles,  but  it  had  been  blistered  for  him. 
Hastily  swallowing  what  was  in  his  spoon, 
he  slid  down  from  the  table. 

"Why,  what 's  the  matter,  dear?"  she 
asked  in  surprise.  "Don't  you  like  it  after 
all?" 

He  cast  one  furtive,  abashed  look  at  her 
as  he  sidled  towards  the  door.  There  was 
confession  in  that  look,  and  penitence  and 
a  sturdy  resolve  to  make  what  atonement 
he  could.  Then  from  the  hall  he  called 
back  the  rather  enigmatical  answer,  "I 
have  n't  got  'em  on,  but  I  'm  going  to  put 
'em  on!"  And  the  "rabbit  dravy"  waited 
while  he  clattered  up  the  stairs  to  wriggle 

144 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

out  of  his  suit  and  into  the  flannels,  which 
Benjy's  jeers  had  made  him  discard  just 
before  supper,  for  the  third  time  that 
day. 


145 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN  the  story  it  was  six  long  years  before 
the  Princess  Ina  completed  her  task,  but 
less  than  a  week  went  by  before  Libby  was 
convinced  that  the  charm  was  a  potent  one, 
and  that  Miss  Santa  Claus  had  spoken 
truly.  But  there  was  one  thing  she  could 
not  understand.  In  the  story,  one  found 
the  star-flowers  only  among  nettles  and 
briars,  and  gathered  them  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  scratches  and  stings.  Yet  she  was 
finding  it  not  only  a  pleasure  to  obey  this 
new  authority  but  a  tingling  happiness  to  do 
anything  for  her  which  would  call  forth 
some  smile  of  approval  or  a  caress. 

Still,  she  saw  that  the  story  way  was  the 
true  way  in  Will'm's  case,  for  so  many  things 
that  he  was  told  to  do,  made  him  feel  all 
"cross  and  scratchy  and  hot."  They  inter- 
fered with  his  play  or  clashed  with  the  ideas 

146 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

he  imbibed  from  Benjy.  Some  of  Benjy's 
ideas  were  as  "catching"  and  distorting  as 
the  mumps. 

The  conductor's  punch  did  not  long  con- 
tinue to  be  the  daily  reminder  to  Will'm  that 
Libby's  ring  was  to  her,  for  it  mysteriously 
disappeared  one  day,  and  was  lost  for 
months.  It  disappeared  the  very  day  that 
a  row  of  little  star-shaped  holes  was  found 
along  the  edge  of  the  expensive  Holland 
window-shade  in  the  front  window  of  the 
parlor.  Benjy  had  suggested  punching 
them.  He  wanted  a  lot  of  little  stars  to 
paste  all  over  their  shoes.  Why  he  wanted 
them  nobody  but  he  could  understand. 

But  the  punch  served  its  purpose,  for  the 
Holland  shade  was  not  taken  down  on  ac- 
count of  the  holes,  and  whenever  the  row 
of  little  stars  met  Molly  Branfield's  eyes, 
they  reminded  her  of  the  day  when  Libby 
threw  herself  into  her  arms,  calling  her 
"Mother"  for  the  first  time,  and  sobbing 
out  the  story  of  Ina  and  the  swans.  Dis- 
tressed   by    Will'm's    wickedness,    Libby 

147 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

begged  her  not  to  stop  loving  him  even  if 
he  did  keep  on  being  naughty,  and  to  try 
the  charm  on  him  which  would  change  him 
into  a  real  little  son.  Many  a  time  in  the 
months  which  followed,  the  row  of  little 
holes  brought  a  smile  of  tolerant  tenderness, 
when  she  was  puzzling  over  ways  to  deal 
with  the  stubbornness  of  the  small  boy  who 
resented  her  authority.  She  knew  that  it 
was  not  because  he  was  bad  that  he  resented 
it,  but  because,  as  Libby  suggested,  he  had 
"started  out  wrong  in  his  hooking-up." 
Many  a  time  Libby  was  moved  to  say 
mournfully,  "Oh,  if  he'd  just  remembered 
what  Miss  Santa  Claus  told  him,  this  never 
would  have  happened!" 

It  was  not  every  day,  however,  that  this 
crookedness  was  apparent.  Often  from 
daylight  till  dark  he  went  happily  from  one 
thing  to  another,  without  a  single  incident 
to  mar  the  peacefulness  of  the  hours.  He 
liked  the  new  home  with  its  banisters  to  slide 
down,  and  its  many  windows  looking  out  on 
streets  where  something  interesting  was  al- 

148 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

ways  happening.  He  liked  to  water  the 
flowers  in  the  dining-room  windows.  It 
made  him  feel  that  he  was  helping  make  a 
spot  of  summertime  in  the  world,  when  all 
out  of  doors  was  white  with  snow.  One  of 
the  pots  of  flowers  was  his,  a  rose-geranium. 
Even  before  the  wee  buds  began  to  swell,  it 
was  a  thing  of  joy,  for  he  had  only  to  rub 
his  fingers  over  a  leaf  to  make  it  send  forth 
a  smell  so  good  that  one  longed  to  eat  it. 

He  liked  the  race  down  the  hall  every 
evening  trying  to  beat  Libby  to  the  door  to 
open  it  for  their  father.  Now  that  he  was 
acquainted  with  him  again,  it  seemed  the 
very  nicest  thing  in  the  world  to  have  a  big 
jolly  father  who  could  swing  him  up  on  his 
shoulder  and  play  circus  tricks  with  him  just 
like  an  acrobat,  and  who  knew  fully  as  much 
as  the  president  of  the  United  States. 

And  Will'm  liked  the  time  which  often 
came  before  that  race  down  the  hall — the 
wait  in  the  firelight,  while  She  played  on  the 
piano  and  he  and  Libby  sang  with  her. 
There  was  one  song  about  the  farmer  feed- 

149 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

ing  his  flocks,  "with  a  quack,  quack  here, 
and  a  gobble,  gobble  there,"  that  he  liked 
especially.  Whenever  they  came  to  the 
chorus  of  the  flocks  and  the  herds  it  was 
such  fun  to  make  all  the  barnyard  noises. 
Sometimes  with  their  lusty  mooing  and  low- 
ing the  noise  would  be  so  great  that  they 
would  fail  to  hear  the  latchkey  turn  in  the 
door,  and  first  thing  they  knew  there  their 
father  would  be  in  the  room  mooing  with 
them,  in  a  deep  voice  that  thrilled  them  like 
a  bass  drum. 

Libby  entered  school  after  the  holidays, 
and  Benjy  started  back  on  his  second  half- 
year,  but  he  did  not  go  regularly.  Many  a 
day  when  he  should  have  been  in  his  classes, 
he  was  playing  War  in  the  Branfield  attic, 
or  Circus  in  the  nursery.  It  was  always  on 
those  days  that  the  crookedness  of  Will'm 
was  more  manifest,  and  for  that  reason,  a 
great  effort  was  made  periodically  to  get 
rid  of  Benjy.  But  it  seemed  a  hopeless 
task.  He  might  be  set  bodily  out  of  doors 
and  told  to  go  home,  but  even  locks  and 

150 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

bolts  could  not  keep  him  out.  He  oozed 
in  again  somewhere,  just  like  smoke.  Re- 
peated telephone  messages  to  his  mother  had 
no  effect.  She  seemed  as  indifferent  to  his 
being  a  nuisance  to  the  neighbors  as  he  was 
to  his  gartersnaps  being  unfastened.  Sev- 
eral times,  thinking  to  escape  him  when  he 
had  announced  his  intention  the  night  be- 
fore of  coming  early,  Mrs.  Branfleld  took 
Will'm  down  town  with  her,  shopping. 
But  he  trailed  them  around  the  streets  just 
like  a  little  dog  till  he  found  them,  and  at- 
tached himself  as  joyously  as  if  they  had 
whistled  to  him.  And  he  looked  even 
worse  than  an  unwashed,  uncombed  little 
terrier,  for  he  was  always  unbuttoned  and 
ungartered  besides. 

Upon  these  appearances,  Will'm,  who  a 
moment  before  had  been  the  most  interested 
and  interesting  of  companions,  pointing  at 
the  shop  windows  and  asking  questions  in 
a  high,  happy  little  voice,  would  pull  loose 
from  his  companion's  hand  and  fall  back  be- 
side Benjy.     The  worst  of  it  was  that  the 

151 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

unwelcome  visitor  rarely  did  anything  that 
could  be  pointed  out  to  Will'm  as  an  of- 
fense. It  was  simply  that  his  presence  had 
a  subtle,  moving  quality  like  yeast,  which 
started  fermentation  in  the  Branfield  house- 
hold whenever  he  dropped  into  it. 

Fortunately,  when  summer  came,  Benjy's 
mother  departed  to  the  seashore,  taking  him 
with  her,  and  Will'm  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  children  on  the  next  block.  There 
were  several  boys  his  own  size  who  swarmed 
in  the  Branfield  yard  continually.  He  had 
a  tent  for  one  thing,  which  was  an  unusual 
attraction,  and  a  slide.  Up  to  a  reasonable 
point  he  had  access  to  a  cooky  jar  and  an 
apple  barrel.  Often,  little  tarts  found  their 
way  to  the  tent  on  mornings  when  "the 
gang"  proposed  playing  elsewhere,  and 
often  the  long  hot  afternoons  were  livened 
with  pitchers  of  lemonade  in  which  ice 
clinked  invitingly;  a  nice  big  chunk  apiece, 
which  lasted  till  the  lemonade  was  gone,  and 
could  be  used  afterward  in  a  sort  of  game. 
You  dropped  them  on  the  ground  to  see  who 

152 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

could  pick  his  up  and  hold  it  the  longest  with 
his  bare  toes. 

Will'm  had  a  birthday  about  this  time, 
with  five  candles  on  his  cake  and  five  boys, 
besides  Libby,  to  share  the  feast.  He  loved 
all  these  things.  He  was  proud  of  having 
treats  to  offer  the  boys  which  they  could  not 
find  in  any  other  yard  on  that  street,  and  in 
time  he  began  to  love  the  hand  which  dealt 
them  out.  He  might  have  done  so  sooner 
if  Libby  had  not  been  so  aggravating  about 
it.  She  always  took  occasion  to  tell  him 
afterward  that  such  kindnesses  were  the 
little  golden  star-flowers  mother  was  gather- 
ing for  him,  and  that  he  ought  to  be  ashamed 
to  do  even  the  littlest  thing  she  told  him  not 
to,  when  she  was  so  good  to  him. 

Unfortunately  Libby  had  overheard  her 
mother  speak  of  her  as  a  real  little  comfort 
in  the  way  she  tried  to  uphold  her  authority 
and  help  her  manage  Will'm.  The  remark 
made  her  doubly  zealous  and  her  efforts,  in 
consequence,  doubly  offensive  to  Will'm. 
He  was  learning  early  that  a  saint  is  one 

153 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

of  the  most  exasperating  people  in  the  world 
to  live  with.  Even  when  they  don't  say 
anything,  they  can  make  you  feel  the  con- 
trast sometimes  so  strongly  that  you  want 
to  be  bad  on  purpose,  just  because  they  are 
the  way  they  are. 

Libby's  little  ring  still  turned  her  wak- 
ing thoughts  in  the  direction  of  Ina  and  the 
swans,  and  her  morning  remarks  usually 
pointed  the  same  way.  The  cherry-red 
stocking  with  its  tinsel  fringe  hung  from  the 
side  of  her  mirror,  the  most  cherished  orna- 
ment in  the  room,  and  a  daily  reminder  of 
Miss  Santa  Claus,  who  was  forever  en- 
shrined in  her  little  heart  as  one  of  the  dear- 
est memories  of  her  life.  She  felt  that  she 
owed  everything  to  Miss  Santa  Claus.  But 
for  her  she  might  have  started  out  crooked, 
and  might  never  have  found  her  way  to  the 
mother-love  which  had  grown  to  be  such  a 
precious  thing  to  her  that  she  could  not  bear 
for  Will'm  not  to  share  it  fully  with  her. 

He  learned  to  fight  that  summer,  and 
nothing  made  him  quite  so  furious  as  to  have 

154 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

Libby  interfere  when  he  had  some  boy  down, 
and  by  sheer  force  of  will  it  seemed,  since 
her  three  years'  advantage  in  age  gave  her 
little  in  strength,  pull  him  off  his  adversary, 
flapping  and  scratching  like  a  little  game- 
cock. Sometimes  it  made  him  so  angry  that 
he  wanted  to  tear  her  in  pieces.  The  worst 
of  it  was,  that  She  always  took  Libby's  part 
on  such  occasions,  and  never  seemed  to  un- 
derstand that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  do 
these  things.  She  always  looked  so  sorry 
and  worried  when  he  was  dragged  into  the 
house,  roaring  and  resentful. 

Gradually  as  summer  wore  on  into  the 
autumn,  it  began  to  make  him  feel  uncom- 
fortable when  he  saw  that  sorry,  worried 
look.  It  hurt  him  worse  than  when  she  sent 
him  to  his  room  or  tied  him  to  the  table  leg 
for  punishment.  And  one  night  when  he 
had  openly  defied  her  and  been  impudent, 
she  did  not  say  anything,  but  she  did  not  kiss 
him  good-night  as  usual.  That  hurt  him 
worst  of  all.  He  lay  awake  a  long  time 
thinking  about  it.     Part  of  the  time  he  was 

155 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

crying  softly,  but  he  had  his  face  snuggled 
close  down  in  the  pillow  so  that  Libby 
could  n't  hear  him. 

He  wished  with  all  his  heart  that  she 
was  his  own,  real  mother.  He  felt  that  he 
needed  one.  He  needed  one  who  could  un- 
derstand and  who  had  a  right  to  punish  him. 
It  was  because  she  had  n't  that  right  that  he 
resented  her  authority.  All  the  boys  said 
she  had  n't.  If  she  did  no  more  than  call 
from  the  window:  "Don't  do  that,  Will'm," 
they  'd  say  in  an  undertone,  "You  don't 
have  to  pay  any  attention  to  her!"  They 
seemed  to  think  it  was  all  right  for  their 
mothers  to  slap  them  and  scold  them  and 
cuff  them  on  the  ears.  He  'd  seen  it  done. 
He  would  n't  care  how  much  he  was  slapped 
and  cuffed,  if  only  somebody  who  was  his 
truly  own  did  it.  Somebody  who  loved 
him.  A  queer  little  feeling  had  been  creep- 
ing up  in  his  heart  for  some  time.  Very 
often  when  She  spoke  to  Libby  she  called 
her  "little  daughter"  and  she  and  Libby 
seemed  to  belong  to  each  other  in  a  way  that 

156 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

shut  Will'm  out  and  gave  him  a  lonesome 
left-in-the-cold  feeling.  Will'm  was  a  rea- 
sonable child,  and  he  was  just,  and  up 
there  in  the  dark  where  he  could  be  honest 
with  himself,  he  had  to  acknowledge  that 
it  was  his  own  fault  that  she  had  n't  kissed 
him  good-night.  It  was  his  fault  because, 
having  started  out  crooked,  he  did  n't  seem 
to  be  able  to  do  anything  but  to  go  on 
crooked  to  the  end.  He  could  n't  tell  her, 
but  he  wished,  oh,  how  he  wished,  that  She 
could  know  how  he  felt,  and  know  that  he 
was  crying  up  there  in  the  dark  about  it. 
He  wished  he  could  go  back  to  the  Junction 
and  be  Grandma  Neal's  little  boy.  She  al- 
ways kissed  him  good-night,  even  on  days 
when  she  had  to  switch  him  with  a  peach- 
tree  switch.  When  he  was  a  little  bigger 
he  would  just  run  off  and  go  back  to 
Grandma  Neal. 

But  next  morning  he  was  glad  that  he  was 
not  living  at  the  Junction,  for  he  started  to 
kindergarten,  and  a  world  of  new  interests 
opened  up  before  him.     Benjy  came  back  to 

157 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

town  that  week,  but  he  did  not  find  quite 
the  same  tractable  follower.  Will'm  had 
learned  how  to  play  with  other  boys,  and 
how  to  make  other  boys  do  his  bidding,  so  he 
did  not  always  allow  Benjy  to  dictate.  Still 
the  leaven  of  an  uneasy  presence  began 
working  again,  and  worked  on  till  it  was 
suddenly  counteracted  by  the  coming  of  an- 
other Christmas  season. 

Both  Libby  and  Will'm  began  to  feel  its 
approach  when  it  was  still  a  month  off. 
They  felt  it  in  the  mysterious  thrills  that  be- 
gan to  stir  the  household  as  sap,  rising  in  a 
tree,  thrills  it  with  stirrings  of  spring. 
There  were  secrets  and  whisperings. 
There  was  counting  of  pennies  and  planning 
of  ways  to  earn  more,  for  they  were  wiser 
about  Christmas  this  year.  They  knew  that 
there  are  three  kinds  of  presents.  There 
is  the  kind  that  Santa  Claus  puts  into  your 
stocking,  just  because  he  is  Santa  Claus, 
and  the  Sky  Road  leads  from  his  Kingdom 
of  Giving  straight  to  the  kingdom  of  little 
hearts  who  love  and  believe  in  him. 

158 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

Then  there  's  the  kind  that  you  give  to  the 
people  you  love,  just  because  you  love  them, 
and  you  put  your  name  on  those.  And 
third,  there  's  the  kind  that  you  give  se- 
cretly, in  the  name  of  Santa  Claus,  just  to 
help  him  out  if  he  is  extra  busy  and  should 
happen  to  send  you  word  that  he  needs  your 
services. 

Libby  and  Will'm  received  no  such 
messages,  being  so  small,  but  their  father 
had  one.  He  sent  a  load  of  coal  and  some 
rent  money  to  a  man  who  had  lost  a  month's 
wages  on  account  of  sickness  in  his  family, 
and  it  must  have  been  a  very  happy  and  de- 
lightful feeling  that  Santa  Claus  gave  their 
father  for  doing  it,  for  his  voice  sounded 
that  way  afterward  when  he  said,  "After 
all,  Molly,  that 's  the  best  kind  of  giving. 
We  ought  to  do  more  of  it  and  less  of  the 
other." 

When  it  came  to  the  first  kind  of  pres- 
ents, neither  Libby  nor  Will'm  made  a 
choice.  They  sent  their  names  and  ad- 
dresses up  the  chimney  so  that  the  reindeer 

*  159 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

might  be  guided  to  the  right  roof-top,  and 
left  the  rest  to  the  generosity  of  the  rein- 
deer's wise  master  to  surprise  them  as  he 
saw  fit.  They  were  almost  sure  that  the 
things  they  daily  expressed  a  wish  for  would 
come  by  the  way  of  the  Christmas  tree  as 
the  doll  and  the  tricycle  had  the  year  before, 
"with  the  love  of  father  and  mother." 

But  when  it  came  to  the  second  kind  of 
presents,  they  had  much  to  consider.  They 
wanted  to  give  to  the  family  and  each  other, 
and  the  cook  and  their  teachers,  and  the  chil- 
dren they  played  with  most  and  half  a  dozen 
people  at  the  Junction.  The  visit  which 
they  had  planned  all  year  was  to  be  a  cer- 
tainty now.  The  day  after  Christmas  the 
entire  family  was  to  go  for  a  week's  visit,  to 
Grandma  and  Uncle  Neal. 

That  last  week  the  children  went  around 
the  house  in  one  continual  thrill  of  anticipa- 
tion. Such  delicious  odors  of  popcorn  and 
boiling  candy,  of  cake  and  mincemeat  in  the 
making  floated  up  from  the  kitchen!  Such 
rustling  of  tissue  paper  and  scent  of  sachets 

160 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

as  met  one  on  the  opening  of  bureau  draw- 
ers! And  such  rapt  moments  of  gift-mak- 
ing when  Libby  sewed  with  patient,  learn- 
ing fingers,  and  Will'm  pasted  paper 
chains  and  wove  paper  baskets,  as  he  had 
been  taught  in  kindergarten ! 

One  day  the  conductor's  punch  suddenly 
reappeared,  and  he  seized  it  with  a  whoop 
of  joy.  Now  all  his  creations  could  be 
doubly  beautiful  since  they  could  be  star- 
bordered.  As  he  punched  and  punched  and 
the  tiny  stars  fell  in  a  shower,  the  story  of 
Ina  and  the  swans  stirred  in  his  memory, 
with  all  the  glamour  it  had  worn  when  he 
first  heard  it  over  his  dish  of  strawberries. 
Down  in  his  secret  soul  he  determined  to  do 
what  he  wished  he  had  done  a  year  earlier, 
to  begin  to  follow  the  example  of  Ina. 

The  family  could  not  fail  to  notice  the 
almost  angelic  behavior  which  began  that 
day.  They  thought  it  was  because  of  the 
watching  eye  he  feared  up  the  chimney,  but 
no  one  referred  to  the  change.  He  used  to 
sit  in  front  of  the  fire  sometimes,  just  as  he 

161 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

had  done  at  the  Junction,  rocking  and  sing- 
ing, his  soft  bobbed  hair  flapping  over  his 
ears  every  time  the  rockers  tilted  forward. 
But  he  was  not  singing  with  any  thought 
that  he  might  be  overheard  and  written 
down  as  a  good  little  boy.  He  was  sing- 
ing just  because  the  story  of  the  Camels 
and  the  Star  was  so  very  sweet,  and  the  mere 
thought  of  angels  and  silver  bells  and  the 
glittering  Sky  Road  brought  a  tingling  joy. 
But  more  than  all  he  was  singing  because 
he  had  begun  to  weave  the  big  beautiful 
mantle  whose  name  is  Love,  and  the  curi- 
ous little  left-out-in-the-cold  feeling  was 
gone. 

Christmas  eve  came  at  last.  When  the 
twilight  was  just  beginning  to  fall,  Libby 
brought  down  the  stockings  which  were  to 
be  hung  on  each  side  of  the  sitting-room 
fireplace.  It  would  be  nearly  an  hour  be- 
fore their  father  could  come  home  to  drive 
the  nails  on  which  they  were  to  hang,  but 
they  wanted  everything  ready  for  him. 
Will'm  went  out  to  the  tool-chest  on  the 

162 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

screened  porch  to  get  the  hammer.  It  took 
him  a  long  time  to  find  it. 

Libby  waited  impatiently  a  few  moments, 
supposing  he  had  stopped  to  taste  something 
in  the  kitchen.  She  was  about  to  run  out 
and  warn  him  not  to  nip  the  edges  from 
some  tempting  bit  of  pastry,  as  he  had  been 
known  to  do,  but  remembering  how  very 
hard  he  had  been  trying  to  be  good  all  week, 
she  decided  he  could  be  trusted. 

With  the  stockings  thrown  over  one  arm 
she  stood  in  front  of  the  piano,  idly  striking 
the  keys  while  she  waited.  She  had  learned 
to  play  several  tunes  during  the  year,  and 
now  that  she  was  eight  years  old,  she  was 
going  to  have  real  lessons  after  the  holidays 
and  learn  to  read  music.  How  much  she 
had  learned  since  the  first  time  her  little  fin- 
gers were  guided  over  the  keys.  She  struck 
those  earliest-learned  notes  again:  "Three 
blind  mice !  See  how  they  run  1"  She  could 
play  the  whole  thing  now,  faster  than  flying. 
She  ran  down  the  keys,  over  and  over  again. 

When  for  about  the  twentieth  time  "they 

163 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

all  took  after  the  farmer's  wife,"  she  stopped 
short,  both  hands  lifted  from  the  keys  to 
listen.  Her  face  blanched  until  even  her 
lips  were  pale.  Such  a  sound  of  awful 
battle  was  coming  from  the  back  yard! 
Recognizing  Will'm's  voice  she  ran  out 
through  the  kitchen  to  the  yard. 

"It's  that  everlastin'  Benjy,  again!" 
called  the  cook  as  Libby  darted  out  the  door 
to  rescue  Will'm  from  she  knew  not  what. 

But  it  was  Benjy  who  needed  rescuing 
this  time.  Will'm  sat  on  top,  so  mighty  in 
his  wrath  and  fury  that  he  loomed  up  fear- 
somely  to  the  bigger  boy  beneath  him,  whose 
body  he  bestrode  and  whose  face  he  was  bat- 
tering with  hard  and  relentless  little  fists. 
Both  boys  were  blubbering  and  crying,  but 
Will'm  was  roaring  between  blows,  "Take 
it  back!     Take  it  back!" 

Whatever  it  was,  Benjy  took  it  back  just 
as  Libby  appeared,  and  being  allowed  to 
stagger  up,  started  for  the  street,  loudly 
boo-hooing  at  every  step,  as  he  found  his  way 
homeward,   for  once  of  his   own  volition. 

164 


»>jCn 


Take  it  back  !  " 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

The  cries  had  startled  Libby  but  they  were 
as  nothing  to  the  sight  that  met  her  eyes 
when  she  led  Will'm,  so  blinded  by  his  own 
tears  that  he  needed  her  guidance,  to  the 
light  of  the  kitchen  door.  What  she  saw 
sent  her  screaming  into  the  house,  with 
agonized  calls  for  "mother."  She  still  held 
on  to  Will'm's  hand,  pulling  him  along  after 
her. 

From  forehead  to  chin,  one  side  of  his  face 
was  scratched  as  if  a  young  tiger  cat  had  set 
his  claws  in  it.  A  knot  was  swelling  rapidly 
on  his  upper  lip,  and  one  hand  was  covered 
with  blood.  Mrs.  Branfleld  gave  a  gasp  as 
she  came  running  in  answer  to  Libby's 
calls.  "Why,  you  poor  child!"  she  cried, 
gathering  him  up  to  her  and  sitting  down  in 
the  big  rocker  with  him  in  her  lap.  "What 
happened?    What 's  the  matter?" 

He  was  sobbing  so  convulsively  now,  with 
long  choking  gasps,  that  he  couldn't  an- 
swer. She  saw  that  his  face  was  only 
scratched,  but  snatched  up  his  hand  to  ex- 
amine the  extent  of  its  injuries.  As  he 
167 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

looked  at  it  too,  the  power  of  speech  came 
back  to  him,  in  a  degree. 

"That  isn't  m-my  b-blood!"  he  sobbed. 
"It's  B-Benjy3s  blood!" 

"Oh,  Will'm!"  mourned  Libby.  "On 
Christmas  eve,  just  when  you  've  been  try- 
ing so  hard  to  be  good,  too!" 

She  picked  up  the  stockings  which  she  had 
dropped  on  running  out  of  the  house,  and 
laid  his  over  the  back  of  a  chair,  as  if  she 
realized  the  hopelessness  of  hanging  it  up 
now,  after  he  had  acted  so.  At  that,  almost 
a  spasm  of  sobs  shook  him.  He  did  n't  need 
anybody  to  remind  him  of  all  he  had  for- 
feited and  all  he  had  failed  in.  That  was 
what  he  was  crying  about.  He  did  n't  mind 
the  smarting  of  his  face  or  the  throbbing  of 
his  swollen  lip.  He  was  crying  to  think  that 
the  struggle  of  the  last  week  was  all  for 
naught.  He  was  all  crooked  with  Her 
again.  She  did  n't  want  him  to  fight  and 
she  'd  never  understand  that  this  time  he  just 
had  to. 

The  arms  that  held  him  were  pressing  for 

168 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

an  answer.  "Tell  me  how  it  happened, 
dear." 

Between  gulps  it  came. 

"Benjy  said  for  me  to  come  on — and  go 
to  the  grocery  with  him !  And  I  said — that 
my — my  mother — did  n't  want  me  to !" 

"Yes,"  encouragingly,  as  he  choked  and 
stopped.  He  had  never  called  her  that  be- 
fore. 

"And  Benjy  said  like  he  always  does,  that 
you  w-was  n't  my  m-m-mother  anyhow. 
And  I  said  you  was!  If  he  did  n't  take  it 
back  I — I'd  beat  him  up!" 

Libby  was  crying  too,  now,  from  sympa- 
thy. He  'd  been  told  so  many  times  he  must 
not  fight  that  she  was  afraid  he  would  have 
to  be  punished  for  such  a  bad  fight  as  this. 
To  be  punished  on  Christmas  eve  was  just 
too  awful !  She  stole  an  anxious  glance  to- 
wards the  chimney,  then  toward  her  mother. 

But  her  mother  was  hugging  him  tight 
and  kissing  him  wherever  she  could  find  a 
place  on  his  poor  little  face  that  was  n't 
scratched  or  swollen,  and  she  was  saying  in 

169 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

a  voice  that  made  a  lump  come  into  Libby's 
throat,  it  was  so  loving  and  tender, 

"My  dear  little  boy,  if  that 's  why  you 
fought  him  I  'm  glad  you  did  it,  for  you  've 
proved  now  that  you  are  my  little  son,  my 
very  own!" 

Then  she  laughed,  although  she  had  tears 
in  her  eyes  herself,  and  said,  "That  poor 
little  cheek  shows  just  what  fierce  nettles 
and  briars  you  've  been  through  for  me,  but 
you  brought  it,  didn't  you!  The  most 
precious  star-flower  in  all  the  world  to 
me!" 

The  surprise  of  it  stopped  his  tears.  She 
understood!  He  could  not  yet  stop  the 
sobbing.  That  kept  on,  doing  itself.  But 
a  feeling,  warm  and  tender  that  he  could  not 
explain,  seemed  to  cover  him  "from  wing- 
tip  to  wing- tip!"  A  bloody  little  hand  stole 
up  around  her  neck  and  held  her  tight.  She 
was  his  mother,  because  she  understood!  It 
was  all  right  between  them  now.  It  would 
always  be  all  right,  no  matter  what  Benjy 
and  the  rest  of  the  world  might  say.     He  'd 

170 


OF  THE  PULLMAN 

beat  up  anybody  that  dared  to  say  they 
did  n't  belong  to  each  other,  and  she  wanted 
him  to  do  it! 

Presently  she  led  him  up-stairs  to  put 
some  healing  lotion  on  his  face,  and  wash 
away  the  blood  of  Benjy. 

Libby,  in  the  deep  calm  that  followed  the 
excitement  of  so  many  conflicting  emotions, 
sat  down  in  the  big  rocking  chair  to  wait  for 
her  father.  Her  fear  for  Will'm  had  been 
so  strong,  her  relief  at  the  happy  outcome 
so  great,  that  she  felt  all  shaken  up. 
A  long,  long  time  she  sat  there,  thinking. 
There  was  only  one  more  thing  needed  to 
make  her  happiness  complete,  and  that  was 
to  have  Miss  Santa  Claus  know  that  the 
charm  had  worked  out  true  at  last.  She  felt 
that  they  owed  her  that  much — to  let  her 
know.  Presently  she  slipped  out  of  the 
chair  and  knelt  in  front  of  the  fire  so  close 
that  it  almost  singed  her. 

"Are  you  listening  up  there?"  she  called 
softly.  "  'Cause  if  you  are,  please  tell  Miss 
Santa  Claus  that  everything  turned  out  just 

171 


MISS  SANTA  CLAUS 

as   she   said   it  would.     I  '11  be  so   much 
obliged." 

Then  she  scudded  back  to  her  chair  to 
listen  for  her  father's  latchkey  in  the  door, 
and  her  mother's  and  Will'm's  voices  coming 
down  the  stairs,  a  happier  sound  than  even 
the  sound  of  the  silver  bells,  that  by  and  by 
would  come  jingling  down  the  Sky  Road. 


THE  END 


172 


